Romeo and Juliet
by Pharaohess
Summary: When stranded on a planet of actors and thespians, the Doctor and Rose must be the leads in a certain play to be able to leave...but there may be more to it than first meets the eye [10Rose]
1. Act 1

So, this is an idea I had ages ago. I decided to finally write it, and put it up here. Enjoy!

(Will possibly be romance later on)

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"Doctor, what's happening?" Rose cried as she gripped tightly to a railing. The TARDIS was rocking and shaking uncontrollably and throwing her occupants around.

"I don't know!" The Doctor called back from his place by the console. "She's been caught by something, I think. Like a gravity beam. She's trying to get out of it, but can't."

The TARDIS shook again, and both travellers were thrown to the floor. Rose struggled up on the shaking grilling and stumbled over to the Doctor. "Anything I can do?"

"No – and I don't think there's much I can do either." He glanced at Rose, worry for his ship evident in his eyes. "And that's saying something. We'll have to let her ride it out, or succumb to it." He gazed up at the rotor, biting his lip.

The shaking stopped. Exchanging a glace with the Doctor, Rose said, "Did she get out? Is it over?"

The Doctor gave an off-hand shrug, one hand stroking the console soothingly. "No idea. She's stable at least, whatever she's done…"

His words were hardly out of his mouth when they were both thrown to the ground again, more violently than the last times. There was silence again.

"We've landed?" Rose asked quietly as the Doctor helped her to her feet.

Again, he shrugged. "I can only hope so. She's gotta rest."

Rose nodded, heading towards the doors. She was almost at them when the TARDIS gave a final and almighty heave of some description, sending them both flying to the ground again. This time, Rose couldn't avoid the railing, and her world went black it connected with her head.

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"Is she awake yet?"

"No, Antonio, not yet."

"I'm starting to get worried about her. She's been out for a while. Where is the other – the Doctor?"

"He said he was going to check on his ship."

Voices. Her eyes were so heavy, but there were voices. She moved her head in their direction, groaning slightly as she did so.

"She wakes! Quickly, Leo – go get the Doctor."

Rose slowly slid open her protesting eyes and lay for a moment letting the room come into focus. She was lying on a bed in a long room. It seemed to be a small infirmary of some kind, but there were only five or so beds. Blinking, and trying to make sense of it, Rose turned, jumping in surprise when she saw the figure sitting next to her.

He was humanoid, apart from the six fingers on each hand and the matching hair and eye colour. As in the exact shade – peroxide blonde, in this case. He smiled as her as she recoiled in caution.

"Now, now Rose – you've had a bad whack on the head. Just relax."

"How…" Rose had to pause to get her thoughts in order. "How do you know my name?"

"The Doctor told me."

The Doctor! "Where is he? Is he alright?" She tried to keep any anxious tones or urgency out of her voice, but Antonio saw she was worried for her friend.

"He's fine. He went back to your ship to work on it. I just sent my friend, Leo, to get him."

Rose lay back on her pillows. Her head was killing her. She must have hit it hard. She wondered, in passing thought, how long she'd been asleep…where were they? _When_ were they? What had happened to the TARDIS?

"Rose!" She looked up to see a familiar figure hurry into the room. He came straight over and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Umm, sore. My head's killing me. How's the TARDIS?"

The Doctor grinned. Trust Rose to ask about the ship. "She's a little confused and tired, but should make a full recovery." He seemed to remember they were not alone and turned to Antonio. "Can you get that messenger away? I'll explain to Rose what's going on."

Antonio nodded. "Yes, yes. I'll be back as soon as the messenger has an answer."

He left the two of them alone. Rose, by now thoroughly confused, watched him go.

"Doctor, what's going on? What happened? Where are we?"

"You always were one for questions, Rose Tyler. The planet's called Thespiter. It's a planet of theatre – where theatre is life and Shakespeare is a God. Seriously."

Rose did a double take. "Shakespeare's known _here_?"

"Why's that so surprising, then?"

"Well, it's just he's human, and…" She stopped at the look of amusement on the Doctor's face. "What? Oh god, you're not going to say what I think you are…"

"Yup! Shakespeare, a human? You wish. He came from here."

Rose didn't want to back down. "Oh yeah? What about Wilde? And Marlowe?"

"Wilde? You can't be serious. That guy _radiated_ alien. Marlowe was just a talented human. But Shakespeare was not, and here he is a god."

Rose laughed. "Really? That's just weird." She stopped laughing as another thought came into her sore head. "But what _happened_? How did we get here?"

"The TARDIS got caught in a gravity beam – I _was_ right. We were dragged down to the surface while she tried to escape it. Apparently, Thespiter's run by this real jerk called the Duke. He drags down all ships that go to close to the planet without authorisation. Including us."

Rose nodded. It seemed to make sense. She opened her mouth to talk, but the Doctor held up his hand. "There's more. And it gets worse."

He paused. "After we crashed, because crash we did, Antonio and Leo came to help. They helped me get you here, and explained to me the situation. Antonio's gone to send a messenger to the Duke requesting authorisation to leave."

"What situation? Can't we just go back to the vortex?"

"Nah – irritatingly enough the Duke's got a macro-wavelength polygravimetric barrier." He pulled a face.

This made Rose's head hurt even more. "A _what_?"

"Ah, it's a tiny bit like a one way mirror. Ships can come through, but special things need to be done to get back out. So we can't just leave. See?"

"Yeah. So, how long was I out for?" Her headache was beginning to ebb.

"Only about half an hour. You cracked your pretty head pretty hard." He grinned. "But you're made of strong stuff. You'll be fine."

Antonio appeared at the door. "Doctor? The messenger has returned. I'm afraid the news is not good."

He came over to them, Leo appearing behind him as well. Leo's eyes and hair was a dark brown in strong contrast to that of his friend. They both looked troubled.

"The Duke has said no. He says that he will not give authorisation just because you ask him to. I'm sorry."

"Did you tell him I was a higher authority than him?"

"He said it wasn't possible, because only men of amazingly high intellect can be of a high authority like himself." (Rose bit her lip at the look on the Doctor's face.)

He rolled his eyes. "Is there any other way to do it without possibly making your planet an enemy of me? I'm going to get off here, don't doubt me, but I'll try do it the lawful way first. After that I'll just get troublesome."

"No, an appeal is the only way it is sometimes granted, and due to your insistence, I do not think the Duke will smile kindly on you." Antonio shook his head sadly. "I am sorry, my new-found friends."

Leo shifted uncomfortably. "There…there might be one way…"

His three listeners turned to him eagerly. "And what, pray tell, is that?" asked Antonio, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Well, there was a crew a few years back…they performed for the Duke. _The Tragedy of the Algopahiens_. He let them leave, remember Antonio?" Leo looked to his friend expectantly, as the creased marks on Antonio's head were smoothed away with a look of realisation.

Antonio nodded. "Yes. Well, maybe we could do that again…" he lapsed into thoughtful silence.

"Algopahiens?" Rose asked the Doctor in a low voice.

"Written by Max Welign, from Ovoon 6. Think Shakespeare's _Othello_, but Iago and Othello are brothers and they're blue, not black. Everyone dies. Not too happy – and not one of my favourites." Rose nodded in understanding.

Leo seemed to be more confident. "The Duke loved their performance so much he granted their leads one wish within his power. They asked to leave, so he let them. Theatre performances are his weakness. He attends heaps all the time."

The cogs of Rose's mind were beginning to turn again. "So, what you're saying is that we need to be in _play_? Jesus, I haven't acted for years!"

Leo nodded. "All we need to do is send another messenger asking what sort of play the Duke wants to see, then we cast the two of you as the leads, rehearse and perform. If you do well, he lets you leave."

Rose cringed internally. She liked acting, yeah sure – but as a lead? And with the stakes so high? Lord – this might not be good. And a play she doesn't even know? The Duke will laugh as she trips over the alien words…no pressure. No, none at all.

Antonio spoke up from where he was sitting. "Leo, run over to the manor now, yourself. That way we get lots of warning."

Leo nodded, standing and leaving the room. Antonio turned back to the bed to address both the travellers. "Can you act?"

"I haven't in years, but I have before," said Rose. She neglected to mention the words _at school_ and _I wasn't a lead._ She pointed to the Doctor. "Don't even ask him. He lives half his life on improvisation. He's fine, I'm sure."

The Doctor grinned, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "Well, yeah, course I've done a bit of acting – ever see _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fir_e? I was good in that, I was. Great role to play too. He was nothing like me…"

Antonio nodded. "I have contacts – well, we all do here – for more actors, a theatre, backstage…we might be able to pull this off in…oh, I'd say two weeks."

"Two weeks?" the Doctor said sharply from beside Rose, sitting up straight. "That long?"

Rose could see he was itching to get away, and put her and on his shoulder. "Come on. It's only two weeks. Maybe less?" She directed the last part towards Antonio, who nodded.

"Quite possibly. It depend on how good your fellow actors are, how quickly things get sorted – and how fast you are at learning your lines…"

The Doctor wasn't happy, but agreed to do it, as the time would also give him time to tinker some more on board his beloved ship. Rose fleetingly wondered if the TARDIS would appreciate him wandering around practicing lines.

Leo reappeared, breathless and red-faced. "The Duke wants blood and love. That mix, he says, is the most beautiful."

Immediately, Antonio's brow furrowed. "Blood and love? So what play…?" There was a moment of silence, before he clapped his hands in realisation. "I've got it! A play with blood and love, with a lead male and female, written by our good Shakespeare himself – we will perform _Romeo and Juliet_!"

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So, how was it? Is it interesting? Have you guessed I'm an absolute theatre/Shakespeare freak?

Is it worth continuing? That is the major question, as when I was reading it I felt I was missing something. Maybe it's because I've stared at it too long. Please, review!


	2. Act 2

New chapter! And many, many thanks to all those who reviewed. A few word of encouragement mean enough. Oh, and I decided that this was set between _Idiot's Lantern _and _Impossible Planet._ Not that it matters, or anything.

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"What?" said the Doctor and Rose in unison.

"_Romeo and Juliet_. Are you not familiar with it?" Antonio looked from one to the other with an inquiring smile.

"Yeah," said the Doctor off-handily. "I know of it. _Here's much to do with hate, but more with love; Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate; O anything of nothing first create_…and all that jazz. "

Rose rolled her eyes. "Course _he_ knows it…knows bloody everything…and yeah, I do too. Studied it years ago – but I can't rattle if off the top of my head, unlike _some_ people…" She was aware she was rambling, but her mind was a whirlwind as she spoke._ Romeo and Juliet_? With her as Juliet and the Doctor…oh, no _way._ This was…to be honest, this was too good to be true!

"Then what, pray tell, is wrong? You don't like it?" Leo seemed surprised.

"No, no, like it, yes. Shakespeare good."

Rose stared at the Doctor, who stared back with an amused look. "What? Don't you look at me like that, Rose Tyler."

Rose rolled her eyes again, turning back to Antonio. "What he was saying, I think, is that he likes it. It was the last thing I was expecting, at least. But it's nice."

Antonio nodded, sharing a glance with Leo. "Leo, my friend – send word to the Lily, and to the Crown. Find Cassius if you can."

Leo gave a grin and dashed off again, leaving the Doctor to ask, "The Lily and the Crown?"

"Two of the theatres, and those I work at most. It is there we will find friends to help us in our performance."

"Speaking of which…" The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly and Rose could see all trace of humour had been replaced with a deadly serious glint. "Why are you helping us so much?"

Rose though this was incredibly rude and hit him on the arm. "Doctor!"

He turned his eyes on her, the serious edge still evident. "What? Years of travelling have made me suspicious." There was no warmth in his voice as he turned back to Antonio. "We're strangers. And won't you get in trouble if you help us?"

Antonio was taken aback by the Doctor's question, and answered with a bitter undertone to his words. "We help, Doctor, because you need us to. I would like another chance to act – there are no plays on at this moment – and so the opportunity is welcome. You came to us with Rose – so we offered you shelter. We are only continuing to help, nothing more."

The Doctor nodded, the light returning to his eyes. "Course. Sorry; but bad experiences and all that, you know?"

"Yes," said Antonio with a sudden smile. "Yes, of course. And in answer to your other question, no, no trouble should come to us. Now," he added, flicking his gaze to Rose, "how are you feeling? Can you stand?"

"Fine…yeah…" Rose swung herself of the bed and stood beside the Doctor, who tilted his head down to look at her. "How's the head?"

"Cracked," she answered with a grin. "But aren't we all?"

Antonio laughed softly. "Come, we will visit the Lily. It is closest – and by now, Leo will have spread the word and we will have people to meet."

He led them from the small infirmary, down a corridor and out into the sunshine beyond. Rose found herself in a street that appeared to be from Shakespeare's time – thatched roofs, dirt streets, and lanterns (although the lanterns only appeared old – they were, in fact, electric). There was space age technology everywhere, the sort that Rose would never get used to, and it took a moment for her fully comprehend the beauty of the mixture of two so different times.

The three of them approached the Lily – a small theatre, a little like the Globe Theatre but smaller in scale, and were met by a call.

"They approach! Find Cassius!" Leo ran down the small slope before the theatre to meet them. "Cassius has agreed to direct! And our cast is filled. We await you now."

"What?" exclaimed Rose as they followed. "I thought there were auditions…and stuff…?"

Leo and Antonio laughed. "Not here. You ask for a part, someone who knows it will step in. These people could perform tonight of they wanted! No," Leo continued after a pause. "I exaggerate. But you understand my meaning."

"So, we start now?" The Doctor exchanged a glance with Rose. This definitely was…fast.

"Unless you want to wait until tomorrow?" Antonio stopped walking and tuned back to them. "We can start tomorrow if you wish."

"Um, no, no. I didn't mean that. We've got half the day left – may as well use it!" The Doctor grinned at the two of them, adding quietly to Rose, "Doesn't it seem sudden?"

"Yeah," she whispered back. "Should we be worried?"

"Nah. At least I don't think so. Hope not."

There was loud chatter coming from within. Walking in, Rose was met with a very Shakespearian-esque theatre. A stage, flanked by two columns. Two levels of seating and standing room. Thatched roof with the traditional hole for light. And people, standing around and watching them.

The noise died down, as the presence of the newcomers was observed. A tall man, with green hair and eyes (Rose saw surprisingly), came over to the Doctor and Rose, beaming down at them. "I am Cassius. I take it I have the pleasure of meeting the Doctor and Rose? Our Romeo and Juliet?"

The Doctor nodded, grinning. Cassius turned back to the waiting cast. "We are filled! Everyone, find your scripts and take places for act one scene one! We start from the beginning and go from there, but we will worry about he prologue later." There was a buzz of conversation and movement as the actors stood.

Cassius turned back to the Doctor and Rose. "Now, neither of you are needed at the very start – although you, my Romeo, will be needed later in this scene. Rose, Juliet is not seen until the third scene. Will you watch or rehearse in private?"

Rose was about to answer, as the Doctor bounded off to find himself a script. "Well, I haven't done acting in a while…" she began, feeling thoroughly stupid. Cassius smiled. "Paris! Where is my Paris?"

A young man ran out from the throng of actors by the stage. His hair and eye colour was a dark blue, and he smiled awkwardly at Rose as she stopped next to her. "Yes, director Cassius?"

"Take your Juliet and refresh her memory of the play. You are not needed, after all, until scene two. And you must know her well so the relationship onstage looks genuine."

'Paris' beckoned to Rose, leading her out the back of the theatre, pausing to scoop up two scripts. Rose didn't want to be separated from the Doctor, but he was already immersed in drama anecdotes and looked thoroughly at home. He looked up at her as she walked past with 'Paris' and waved energetically. She tried to smile back, feeling insignificant and out of place.

"My real name's actually Lysander, named after the one in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. I'm usually called Xander." He grinned. "Cassius likes to call people by their character name, as I'm sure you've guessed."

Rose nodded, still feeling a little overwhelmed. Xander seemed to be around her age, and appeared nice enough. "Paris is the one who's meant to marry Juliet, yeah?"

"Yeah, that's me. Now – you read it before?" He handed her a script – a small red covered book, the lines small and beautifully printed inside. Rose nodded, adding "Not for ages, though. Can't remember much of it."

"It doesn't matter." He straightened, and Rose got the distinct impression of a teacher. "Now, the thing to remember with Shakespeare is lots of emotion, follow your instincts and try to make it real. That's it – as soon as the lines are learnt the direction comes naturally. Okay?"

"Um, yeah…"

"Great! Now, you first scene's easy. You speak in one-liners, and you cue is the nurse as she calls you. I'll be the Nurse and Lady Capulet. Ready?"

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"_What, art thou drawn among these Heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, and look upon thy death…_"

Oh, that Tybalt was really quite good. The Doctor was grinning as he leant against the wall and watched the progress going on onstage. Truth be told, he loved the stage. Mind you, life was an improvisation. His life especially.

And these actors, the ones who could apparently stand up and perform, were really good. The Doctor's grin faded slightly as he considered his own acting. Hmmm…how long ago was it that he had actually been in a play? One hundred years ago - oh, wait, that was the timeline of _this_ planet…so, two or three years, then. That wasn't so bad.

Cassius approached him. "Well, what do you think? Are you ready to stand up and do it yourself?"

"Well…"

"Of course you are. Your scene begins soon."

Cassius led the Doctor to the side of the stage. "Enter at your cue and go from there. I'll stop at the end of the scene anyway and give out notes and tips." He turned on his heel and walked back to where he had been seated, leaning back and looking like a cliché of a theatrical director.

The Doctor flicked open his script at the appropriate page, following Montague's speech as it was performed.

"_We would as willingly give cure as know…_"

That was it. Taking a breath, feeling partly glad Rose wasn't around to see him screw up, and strangely a little afraid, the Doctor walked onstage.

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"_Than your consent gives strength to make it fly…_" Rose lowered her script. Shakespeare was hard work, that was for sure. "How was that?"

Xander tilted his head in an indecisive manner. "Good, good. Especially for a cold read."

"If I'm bad, just say." Rose disliked people who covered the truth in false praise.

"Did I say that? Nope – so I'm not going to say it. Don't worry yourself so much – you'll be a good Juliet. Especially with Cassius at the helm – he's the best director around here. He could make an Absorbaloff into a heartfelt Ferdinand or Claudio within two days."

This _did_ make Rose feel a little better. "You really think that was good? I haven't acted in years…"

Xander smiled at her. "You'll be great."

A man appeared in the doorway. "Paris, you're up."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Come on, Rose."

Rose followed both of them back out to the main room of the theatre, her thoughts on the scene which she would soon have to get up and perform. In front of all those strangers, too – not to mention the Doctor. Great – just _great_.

"_Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget_."

Rose smiled. She knew _that_ voice, but it still sound so…new, so beautiful speaking Shakespearian English. Oh, listen to her – that was pathetic! She was a _little_ of a closet theatre fan, true.

She watched the Doctor as both he and Benvolio walked off stage together. As they did so, Cassius stood and clapped his hands. "My friends! That was act one scene one! Now…" he proceeded to read out a list of comments to the actors who had just been performing. The Doctor came and sat next to Rose.

"Haven't done this in a while."

"You sounded fine to me. I'm worried I'm gonna screw this up – but Xander's been a help."

On her other side, Xander reached out a hand to the Doctor. "I'm Xander. Lysander really, but anyway. I'm playing Paris."

"Nice to meet you," replied the Doctor, shaking the offered hand. "Xander, we'll perform in two weeks, right? How is that possible?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's just so fast…"

Rose nudged him. "I though you thought that was too long?"

"Well, I've been thinking. I do _actually_ think, you know."

Xander smiled at them. "I won't lie – Romeo and Juliet is a real favourite here. Everything is already ready – set, costumes, props. All that needs to be done is the actors need to be re-drilled in their lines."

Xander got up to perform, leaving the Doctor and Rose alone.

"Think we can do it?"

He grinned at her. "Rose, we've been up against Daleks, the Gelth, Cassandra, Slitheen, Sycorax, Cybermen and, most recently, the Wire. What harm is theatre?" He winked. "A little drama never hurt anyone."

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There we go! Please review! It means the world to me.


	3. Act 3

Moreness! Thankies to reviewers! It's so very lovely to have so much support

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Rose was left alone as Benvolio came to get the Doctor for their next cue, but only for a moment, as Xander came back over to her.

"Holding up?"

"Until I have to act, yeah."

Rose flicked her eyes to the stage as the Doctor, next to Benvolio, walked onstage, scripts in hand. She couldn't help but think how at home he looked, as he appeared to be listening to whatever it was that Benvolio was saying.

"_What, Romeo, at thou mad?"_

"_Not mad, but bound more than a madman is…"_

Rose had to grin. The Doctor? Not mad. Yeah, right. Rose continued to watch as the scene came to life onstage before her. Her judgement had been right – the Doctor was, of course, a good actor. His acting seemed effortless, calm, controlled – she shuddered to think how much a fool she would look when acting next to him…

Oh, and that iconic scene! _Wherefore art thou Romeo?_ The most well-known and well-loved scene of the play. She wondered if she could really do this. Could she be a sufficient Juliet to get them in the Duke's favour? Or would her performance lead to their having to stay?

"Rose," hissed Xander from next to her, breaking into her thoughts. "Your scene's coming up. Romeo does two last lines, then we're into the Capulet mansion and the scene I went over with you."

Rose nodded, standing. Her legs felt like lead. She went down the side of the stage Xander gestured, coming face to face with two women, who smiled.

"Rose? Our Juliet. I'm your mother, Lady Capulet," said one, smiling and holding out a hand, which Rose shook.

"And I'm the nurse. You all right? You look uneasy. "

"I'm just…I haven't done this in a while, yeah? I'm just a little nervous, I guess."

Lady Capulet placed a hand on Rose's shoulder. "Don't be. We're all actors here, we know the play inside out and you don't. We understand that. But I must say…"she peered onto the stage out the edge of the curtain. "That Doctor can act."

Rose had to hide her grin. "Yeah, I know…"

Rose heard the last lines of the Doctor's – of Romeo's – and he walked off with Benvolio, smiling at her as they passed and giving her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. Then he was gone, back into the theatre to watch the next scene – watch her…

Lady Capulet and the nurse left her alone, speaking their lines hardly having to look at their scripts. She placed her first line – _how now, who calls?_ – in the front of her mind and walked onstage as the nurse gave her the cue.

"_How now, who calls?"_ Rose couldn't believe she'd got it right. And it, well, it felt right too. She responded to the nurse, _Madam, I am here. What is your will?_ – then relaxed a little as the nurse went into a monologue.

Her hands were shaking, even though focus wasn't on her. She glanced around the theatre before her, and caught the Doctor's eye. He winked at her, and Xander, next to him, gave her the thumbs up. Forcing herself to 'stay in the moment' – wasn't that what her school drama teacher had always said? – Rose turned back to the two women on stage beside her and found her place within the monologue of the nurse.

She managed to catch her next few cues, becoming more familiar with the lines, and tried not to read straight from her script (but kinda did anyway). She felt a surge of relief as she delivered her last three lines, then tried to appear interested with the serving man who entered, listened to her 'mother' and exited with the nurse.

Coming down off the stage, Rose wondered how long they had been here, how many hours had passed in a rush of sage direction and Shakespearian language. The Doctor was back on stage again, so Rose sat with Xander and watched them go through it.

She was immersed in it, truth be told, and not just because of the Doctor. She had forgotten the beauty of Shakespeare, and was woken out of her trance-like state by Xander.

"That was good. Cassius will be pleased."

"Really? It was okay? I didn't mutilate it badly?"

"Not at all. I think Cassius was a little worried about your confidence and skill – but I saw him grinning right through your scene. You'll be fine. Just relax."

Rose ran a hand through her hair. "But what about the lines? There are so many – I won't be able to learn them!"

Xander laughed. "You'll be fine, I swear. We have prompts, and if you just keep reading over it, it will stick. And Cassius may cut a little if he feels you're struggling. You'll be able to do it."

Rose nodded, not really believing him. Still, maybe it was possible. Maybe she could. Then again, maybe she could screw everything up.

She looked up at the stage again, where the Doctor and Mercutio were involved in the discussion about Queen Mab. Why could he do it so easily?

The scene ended. Cassius stood and told the cast they would have a break, to meet back and continue running the play. Rose breathed a sigh of relief – a chance to look over her lines before getting up and doing it.

The Doctor and her made their way back to the TARDIS, which had crashed/parked not too far away from the Lily theatre. It was a welcome, familiar sight to Rose, who walked in and threw herself into the pilot's chair, sighing in the relief of familiarity.

"How now, Juliet? What's up with you?"

"Just…overwhelmed, I think."

He laughed. "You looked fine onstage."

"Cheers." Rose pulled out her script and began to flick through her next scene as the Doctor pulled out the sonic screwdriver and ducked beneath the console, as usual. She was glad to see although she came in early, she didn't speak. As she continued reading, she suddenly stopped, stating at the page. She hadn't realised. Why hadn't she realised? It was _the_ scene.

"_You kiss by the book…" _Rose whispered to herself, biting her lip. Kiss each other? How…_awful_…awfully brilliant! She hadn't forgotten the kiss on New Earth – fine, so technically that was Cassandra, but whatever – and was privately thrilled at the idea they may do it again.

Did he know? Had he realised that was the next scene? Rose dropped her script and said off-handily, "So, what happened in the next scene? I don't wanna read if I'm not in it. And you know everything."

The Doctor re-appeared from under the console, face screwed up in thought. "Well…next scene? Capulet mansion…yeah, it's the party where _we_ first meet." He grinned. "So yeah, you're needed." He ducked back under the console. "We have to kiss, by the way."

Rose grinned; glad the Doctor couldn't see her. She tried to make her voice puzzled. "What?"

"Oh, it's nothing special. Quick kiss. Romeo and Juliet _is_ a love story."

"Oh, okay." Still grinning, she picked her script back up and returned to reading it. Her lines didn't seem to be too hard – indeed, they were mostly one-liners again. This wouldn't be too hard, then. Heh…like kissing the Doctor would be hard anyway. And it would be _pretty easy_ to 'pretend' to fall in love with him…

There was a knock at the TARDIS' door. Looking slightly confused, the Doctor opened it to find Xander standing at the threshold. "You guys want something to eat? I'm buying."

"Yeah, why not? Come on, Rose! Let's go see what culinary prowess this planet can offer."

Rose slid her script into her pocket and followed the Doctor out. "How'd you know it was us?"

Xander waved a hand vaguely towards the TARDIS. "How'd you think? It wasn't there yesterday, and it does seem a little conspicuous…"

Rose had to agree. Big blue box amid neutral coloured surroundings? That had been a stupid question.

"So," said Xander as the three of them sat down at a small table outside the Thespian equivalent of a café, "how're you finding it all?"

"Fine," said Rose, shrugging. "But different - but then again, what isn't?"

Across from her, the Doctor nodded. "Yeah. So, how'd _you_ get into this, then?"

"Well, through my parents…" Xander paused. Rose could see he was struggling but trying to hide it. When he spoke again, his voice was partially strained, but his eyes were dry, void of any sign of tears. "Mum and Dad were great theatre patrons…always in shows…they died." His voice gave out on the last two words, and he had to start again. "They died…and now I'm part of this-"

He was cut off as a call came from behind them "Xander, my boy. And our new friends! How are you finding our hospitality?" Antonio beamed at them, a heavy hand on Xander's shoulder.

"We haven't actually ordered or anything yet, Antonio," murmured Xander. He seemed a little uncomfortable, Rose thought, but appeared to smile genuinely up at Antonio. "Why don't you and Leo join us?"

Antonio accepted and sat down next to the Doctor, Leo next to him. "Now, what shall we have?"

oooooooooo

About and hour and many rich dishes and platters later, not to mention some Thespian wine, Antonio announced it was about time they were getting back to the Lily, as rehearsals had to keep going and they still had a lot to do. It was going to be a full on afternoon, apparently (Rose tried to smile and tried _not_ to think about her masses of lines).

Heading back to the Lily, Leo, the Doctor and Antonio a little way ahead, Rose took the moment to talk to Xander. He had been uncharacteristically quiet during their meal, and although he had replied to questions and joked, Rose could see his smile didn't really reach his eyes.

"Xander? Are you alright?"

"Fine, Rose. Mum and Dad…just, you know."

"Yeah, I do. My dad died when I was little." _And the one I met recently doesn't want to acknowledge me…_

Xander nodded sadly. "So, how you feeling about _Romeo and Juliet_?"

Rose could see he was changing the subject, and so indulged him. "I'm real worried, yeah? I flicked through it before – she's got, like these _pages_ of lines! How am I gonna do that?"

Xander bit his lip, grinning at her. "I've got a technique you could use. You've gotta be patient, but it means you can learns in double time…"

Rose rolled her eyes at his fake hesitation. "Xander! I need all the help I can get!"

"All right, all right – record them, listen to them while you sleep. Like, her big monologues. It'll help."

They were at the door of the Lily, now. Rose grinned. Xander's tip might work…she would have to try.

Cassius was inside, ordering actors and stage crew about. He smiled when he saw them; his two leads had returned. "Let's get going, people!"

Rose joined her 'father' and 'mother', the Lord and Lady Capulet, at the side of the stage and readied herself for their entrance. This was going to be…interesting. Before Xander had arrived at the TARDIS, she had re-read her lines. If she screwed up here…the Doctor wouldn't let her forget.

Of course, it was unlikely that she, at least, would forget doing this scene anyway…

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Man, I'm having fun tormenting Rose. Anyway, will update soon!

Fun fact – there was a theatre in Shakespeare's time called the _Rose_ – that's why I called this one the Lily! If you were wondering, which I'll bet you weren't…


	4. Act 4

I'm sorry it took me ages to get the third chapter up – Fanfic wouldn't let me upload anything, strangely. So here's a peace offering – chapter four, too!

Thank you, thank you to all those who reviewed!

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The scene began. First the musicians and serving men did their piece, before retiring to the back of the stage. Rose obediently followed the Lord and Lady of the Capulet household onstage at their cue, half-noticing that the Doctor, Mercutio and the Montague's had also followed them on but were keeping to the side. Rose kept near the back, listening and following in her own script.

"_A hall! A hall!"_ called Capulet. _"Give room! And foot it, girls!"_

Rose found her hand taken by Xander, who grinned at her expression. "We dance!" he whispered. "Just follow my lead – they'll properly choreograph it later."

Rose laughed in surprise, as Xander pulled her away. There was no music, no rhythm. The actors were laughing as they improvised, while Capulet finished his lines about the party. Rose found it was hard to dance with a script clutched in her hand.

Rose wanted to stop dancing – she was getting dizzy, but Xander shook his head. "Romeo spots you when you're dancing. We gotta keep going until his line – then we'll stop." He slowed down, though, which Rose was thankful for.

"_What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight?" _Rose heard the Doctor say to a random extra.

"That's it!" whispered Xander, slowing to a stop and bowing to her. "Just look like you're talking to me now, okay?"

Rose nodded, but she was listening to the Doctor – to Romeo. She knew this passage, it sounded familiar. And the Doctor speaking it…wow. She felt he understood it, said it with such truth and emotion…no, that was stupid. He was just a good actor.

"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night!"

Xander grinned at her. "You've been spotted!" he muttered in a sing-song voice. She grinned back with more truth than Xander was aware of, and almost smacked him on the arm – she decided against it, realising it probably wasn't the right for a girl like Juliet.

She found her place in her script – her lines were still a page or so away; right now Tybalt was complaining about Romeo's presence to Capulet, who was, in turn, telling him to leave it.

"Now," whispered Xander to her, "stand here and look pretty. Actually, move a little further forward so you can be seen – Romeo will come up behind you, you'll start talking, okay?"

She nodded, breathing deep. "Okay."

"Just use your script. Everyone does." He gave a small wave and left her, pretending to converse with other guests. Rose could hear Tybalt complaining about what he would to do Romeo at a later date – Rose knew it was the Doctor's cue. And sure enough…

A hand reached out from behind and gripped hers. No prizes for guessing who it was. She pretended to be surprised, trying not to smile at him as he spoke to her in Shakespeare's words.

"…_to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss…"_

He leaned in to kiss her – she wanted to meet him, but…not yet. Not yet – the script called for her to evade him for a few more lines. Best to stick to it.

"_Good pilgrim…"_ she started, moving out of his reach. She started to speak, the words feeling strange in her mouth. She continued, using her script for reference and trying not to smile whole-heartedly at her 'Romeo'.

He spoke back gently, completely in character, she guessed. He definitely had her fooled, that was for sure. But _it_ was approaching…

"Saints do not move," Rose said in evasion. "Though grant for prayers sake."

The Doctor smiled, moving closer to her. The two of them were now centre stage; the rest of the cast had dropped back to give them the focus. Rose could see everyone had half an eye on the two of them.

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purged…"

Her hands in his, he leaned forward again. This time, there was no evading line for Rose to avoid him with – not that she had wanted to before – and, indeed, the script called for it. She leaned in to meet him and softly brushed her lips against his, holding the kiss for a moment before Rose had to say her next line.

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took…"

"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged," the Doctor grinned at her. "Give me my sin again."

This kiss lasted longer. Rose thought she might melt. There were no theatrical tricks or illusions, it was real in all its beauty. How light she felt! She squeezed his hands softly and felt the pressure returned before they parted.

There was a murmur behind them – the rest of the cast were not expecting it? Ha, that would show them!

Rose got her breath back and spoke. "You kiss by the book." She had never meant Shakespeare to be truer – because the Doctor really did. She knew she would never forget it, ever. Even if it had been under the pretence of a play.

Lost in the moment, she jumped slightly when the Nurse appeared, telling her "…your mother craves a word with you…" and gently pushed her in the direction of Lady Capulet. She could her the Doctor speaking, but her mind was not focused on her words.

"Well," said Lady Capulet in a whisper when Rose reached her, "we were _not _expecting that! The script calls for a kiss, true, but it is not usually that…_sincere_. Either the two of you a very, very good at acting, or…" she smiled quizzically at Rose. "There is something between you…?"

Rose smiled in embarrassment. "The Doctor's a good actor," she said – but did not confirm or deny there was something there.

She heard the Doctor express his torment at her being a Capulet, and be dragged away by Benvolio and Mercutio. She glanced at him as he passed, but he didn't meet her eyes.

Rose and the nurse were now alone onstage, the rest of the cast vanishing after Capulet's lines. She followed her lines in her script, enquiring about her mysterious kisser. As the nurse told her about Romeo's parentage, she had to feel distraught and stunned, even though she was still glowing inside. She forced pain and sorrow into her voice (_think of the gamestation…_said her mind) as she spoke.

"My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy…"

Once offstage, the nurse directed her up a small, cleverly hidden staircase.

"What? Why do I have to…?"

"Your next scene, child! The balcony scene!" she paused. "I was once Juliet, in my youth. You're doing well, but this scene is the one. Everyone knows it, it is iconic and the heart of the play. I give you this advice. Move a bit, pace the balcony. Keep all emotion real, if you can, don't look at him before you're meant to…and don't worry about the big spiel. Reading it straight out of the script if you have to, but keep the emotion going…"

Rose nodded, trying to absorb the advice. The nurse smiled and nodded, then vanished into the darkness of backstage, leaving Rose alone as she quietly climbed the stairs to the balcony.

She kept to the back, and listened to the scene below. The Chorus had done its thing and left, and now Romeo climbed the 'wall' (which, Rose saw, was really a small divider that had appeared onstage) to land in the Capulet orchard. She could just see the Doctor, not quite obscured by the balcony itself, as he ran offstage, and heard Mercutio and Benvolio as they ridiculed Romeo's decision.

They left. There was a moment, as 'Romeo' came back onstage. She moved forward as he finished his first line (her eyes were almost constantly on her script), and watched it as the Doctor wound his way through his monologue. She wanted to look at him, but knew she couldn't – Juliet didn't see him until later, as the nurse had warned.

Truth be told, as much as she liked hearing the Doctor talk, this was getting boring. He had to talk for over a page – and during it, she got two words! (_"Aye me!"_ She said them at her cue dutifully).

Finally, it was her turn. She found, amusingly, she didn't have to look at her script for her first four lines – even _she_ knew these ones. The most well known lines, she guessed of the whole play…

"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore at thou Romeo? Deny thy father…" 

They slipped from her like water. She didn't even know she knew them so well, but then again, they were used in all sorts of things – her learning of them must have been subconscious. Her next piece was the longest she had done yet, and she got through it without much trouble.

She acted surprised through the Doctor's next lines, but inside she was glowing as she looked at him, her heart thudding as she heard the sincerity in his voice. No, the _false_ sincerity.

The scene continued to pass in a dream to Rose. The lover's banter was passed back and forward between them, their eyes never leaving each other.

One part was Juliet's big monologue. It went for almost a page, but she struggled through it, trying to keep the emotion and intent in her voice strong, and using her script almost every line. The watching audience were actors – they were used to it.

She had to leave Romeo at one point, as the nurse called, but it was only for a moment. As soon as she was out of the sight of the watching actor, we smiled so widely her face hurt. This scene was so wonderful! She had to tell herself it was just acting, _just acting._ It still felt incredible.

She ran back to the balcony's edge, almost dropping her script, and continued the scene, calling. _"Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed…"_

Not much later, and bidding him _"A thousand times good night!"_, she had to leave again, tearing herself from the Doctor's gaze. When she returned, she spoke again, trying to get his attention. As he turned back, she felt inspiration and improvisation – the front of the balcony was built with the traditional bars. These were spaced enough for Rose to get her head through without any resistance, so she dropped to he knees and stretched out her hand as her Romeo returned, stretching his own hand up.

She was down low enough, and he was tall enough, and their hands met, a smile on his face. The rest of the scene passed too quickly, she thought, and soon she was saying her final lines of the scene: _"…parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow…"_

She let go of his hand, and stood, watching him. As she finished speaking, his lips moved soundlessly at her, unseen to anyone watching, and Rose did a double take before leaving him alone onstage to complete the scene.

In the shadows of the small staircase, Rose sat halfway down, her mind on what had just transpired. Had he…no, he had been looking for his next lines, trying to remember them without using his script. That was it. It only _looked_ like…

The dreamer inside of Rose was hyperactive, as her reason tried to over rule. He was a good actor, that was all, performing a part in a play. There was nothing strange about his lip-synced words – he was getting his next line ready.

And they did not, she told herself sternly, _did not – it was just her imagination_, look anything like the words 'I love you'.

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I am SUCH a hopeless romantic. Shame on me. Anyway, I think that chapter was a little shorter, so sorry if I disappointed. Will update soon, my faithful and wonderful readers.


	5. Act 5

Yes! Updatings are a success! My thanks to al those who reviewed, and no, still don't own Doctor Who and everything that goes with. I wish.

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Rose was still sitting in the shadows when the Doctor walked off stage. She shrank back, concealing herself, as he looked around him – looking for her? – before flicking his own script open as Friar Laurence began his monologue.

Rose copied him, listening to the actor onstage. How could one person remember so much and speak it well? Xander had said to record it – she would try when she was back at the TARDIS – and Rose could only hope it would help. She didn't want to think what might happen if she forgot her lines or froze onstage…what it could mean to this society of actors and, of course, it would probably insult the Duke…

Shaking herself out of this pessimistic scenario, she crept down the stairs as Friar Laurence neared the end of his lines, and the Doctor took his cue. She took the passage out, and slid herself quietly in next to Xander, who smiled at her.

"Rose? Are you okay? You look pensive."

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine."

Xander nodded his head towards the stage. "That last scene was magic, you know. Don't know why you were worried at all about your acting. And the hand thing! I thought Cassius would explode. He looked so elated…you're on his good side now!"

Rose was only half listening. The last look from the Doctor…the silent words…it was her imagination. It _was_. Wasn't it? Those words had been from Romeo to Juliet, _not_ from the Doctor to her…

Next to her, Xander's brow furrowed. "Rose, something's wrong. What is it? Why can't you tell me?"

"I…" she faltered. "I don't know if it was real. It's just something stupid, don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Xander. If I need to talk then I will." She turned her eyes back to the stage, where the Doctor was asking Laurence to marry him and Juliet. Rose grinned slightly. She'd never imagined the Doctor as a marrying type – he would think it was too domestic.

She continued to stare at the stage, but her eyes didn't see it, immersed in thoughts of love and blood, Romeo and Juliet…and…damn, when was her next scene?

Scene after this one…that was fine. And Scene four was long. It gave her time to compose herself, allow herself to be able to look him in the eye and hold character, and not blurt out what was in her head.

As the next scene started, with Benvolio and Mercutio discussing Romeo's whereabouts and Tybalt's challenge, Rose flicked ahead to her own next scene, with the nurse, and continued skim-reading. Her next scene with Romeo was…the wedding…oh god.

She would have to make a real effort not to make to awkward, especially since her heart had momentarily stopped at the thought of the 'wedding'. She bit her lip and read over the scene again, the action onstage passing her by. She could get through it…she hoped.

But what of the silent words? She must think they were her imagination, know they were, and not mention them. That was the only way she could get through it. Pretend it didn't happen. She didn't want to, but she would.

Xander nudged her. "You'd better go out the back – I can see the Nurse looking for you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah…" she said off-handily and got up, quickly and quietly, making her way out the back where, sure enough, the Nurse was waiting, along with a man she didn't recognise.

"Now, child, our next scene you must be insistent towards me, and don't be afraid to move a lot. Physicality is a good theatre technique…"

Rose nodded, her mind half on what was being said to her and half on what was being said on stage. Suddenly, the Nurse held her face with a melodramatic hand. "Oh! My cue is soon! Peter!" and she left Rose alone backstage with her thoughts.

She twisted her script in her hands as she listened to Romeo and the Nurse talk about her, before turning to the monologue she would have to perform soon. It was so unnerving to perform straight of the page, especially with Shakespeare's unfamiliar language.

"_The clock struck nine when I did sent the Nurse, in half and hour she promised to return…"_ She murmured to herself. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"Ay, a thousand times." Rose heard the nurse say, and looked up to see the Doctor walk offstage.

"Hi, Rose. How's it going?" He smiled softly at her.

"Fine," said Rose, keeping her voice level and normal, though inside she was shaking. "I've got this real nice bloke acting as Romeo."

He smiled at that, and behind him the Nurse appeared. Rose knew what this meant. "Shit – I gotta go." And she zipped past him and onto the stage.

She paused, took a breath and began her monologue, all the time waiting for the Nurse's entry. She hated being onstage alone. At least another actor provided another point of focus apart from her.

The Nurse entered on cue, and Rose spent he rest of the scene being overly insistent as the Nurse had told her to be. Rose thought it was actually quite fun – the scene was almost a cat and mouse, as Juliet tried to get the Nurse to tell her what message Romeo had sent and the Nurse evaded her for much of it by complaining about her back, and her head.

Rose couldn't help smiling as the Nurse mentioned marriage. She was meant to be happy, of course, but it was a chance for her 'inner dreamer' to let her feelings out. What if he did? As in _really_ did love her? No act, no pretending. That would be wonderful.

"_Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell,"_ she said as she moved offstage to the wings. Next was the marriage, and lost in thought she almost ran into the Doctor and Friar Laurence, who were waiting for their scene.

There was no chance to talk, as they had to get onstage. The Doctor smiled at her, and she returned it, before following Laurence onstage and beginning the scene. Rose stood watching, catching her breath and waiting for her cue.

It came. She walked on, moving to stand next to her 'Romeo'. He reached down and put his hand in hers, squeezing gently in reassurance. Rose returned the pressure as she replied to Friar Laurence (_"Good even to my ghostly confessor…"_).

The scene was short, and the three actors left together. Backstage, the Doctor stood back as Mercutio, Benvolio and a few others passed them.

"What's next?" Rose asked him.

"I get to kill Tybalt. Well, he gets to go after Mercutio, and then I go nuts and get him back. Typical Shakespearian fun."

"Right." Rose nodded as this sunk in. This was part of the _blood and love_ idea of Romeo and Juliet. Exactly what the Duke wanted.

The two of them stood silently for a moment, listening to the dialogue going on onstage; a playful banter between Benvolio and Mercutio. Rose also heard footsteps, looking up to watch Tybalt and a few others from the Capulet household approach for their cue. He nodded at Rose, and she recalled his face from the party scene.

"Juliet; my cousin. And Romeo – my death-bringer." He shook the Doctor's hand. "We'll fight with swords later, mime for now. Have you any practice in swordplay?"

"Well…" The Doctor grinned at Rose, and she knew he was thinking of the Sycorax on Christmas day. "Yeah, a bit."

Tybalt smiled. "Excellent. Some practice is better than none. My cue approaches. See you on the battleground." He walked forward to the edge of the stage, his assembly following behind.

Rose watched him go. "I'll bet you'll be able to beat him with one hand."

"Are you implying the other will be cut off again?" the Doctor said with a knowing grin. "Cause you know that ain't gonna happen."

The voices onstage had escalated to yells between Mercutio and Tybalt. The Doctor glanced at his script. "My cue approacheth! I love that – put 'eth' on the end of a word and it becomes Shakespearian! Brilliant." He grinned again. "See you later, Julie."

Rose watched him walk to the edge of the wings, pause, then advance on – towards the fight and the deaths of Tybalt and Mercutio. She listened to the dialogue, before going back to the balcony stairs and sitting down.

Where was her next…oh god. The next piece of hers was…massive. Using the margin line numbers, Rose counted the lines. _Thirty-three?_ That was a lot of talking. A lot of chances to stuff it up. Uh oh. She would just have to struggle through it.

She took the time to read it – as she still had time, as Mercutio hadn't even died yet – and tried not to think about what the line _'O, I have bought the mansion of love, but no possess'd it, and, although I am sold, not yet enjoyed…'_ could mean. It probably wasn't a good thought to put in her head…it was distracting.

She did like some of the language here, she found – Shakespeare could really spin magic with his words. _"Give me my Romeo; and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun…"_ she whispered to herself. Slightly appropriate, she thought.

The rest of the scene was an emotional roller coaster. How fun. First, she thought Romeo dead, then had to learn that although alive, Romeo killed her cousin and was banished for it. More work.

Rose closed the script with a soft snap, as she heard someone come offstage. She stayed where she was on the stairs, listening to the footsteps get closer. It was the Doctor – Romeo escapes before he can be caught at the scene of the crime.

He almost walked past, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his open script which he was reading. He paused as he reached where she was, lowering the script. Not looking directly at her - had she been seen? – he spoke.

"You wouldn't be hiding, or anything, would you?"

Yes, yes she had been seen. "No, I would not."

"Oh yeah? Then why are you hiding on the dark secretive stairs? Aw, is Rosey afraid of some actors?"

She whacked him lightly on the head with her closed script. "Does that answer you? How did killing Tybalt go?"

"Oh fine. Real nice guy. It'll be better with swords."

Onstage, Prince was trying to get a story out of Benvolio and condemning Romeo. Her cue was upon her. "My cue – I've gotta go. Don't wait up."

She smiled at him, pushing past to the edge of the stage. She got there just as Prince finished, and stood back to let the actors pass. After the last of them was past her, she opened her script, walked onstage and limped painfully through the monologue.

She didn't think it went as badly as it could, but she hardly looked up from the book. Oh well, she'd learn it later. At least she didn't completely trip over any of Shakespeare's words. A few minor slips, which she covered well, she hoped.

It was a relief when the Nurse appeared and Rose no longer had to talk only to herself. She tried to get her emotions as real as possible throughout, which wasn't all that hard, considering the experiences she could recall.

"_Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!" _she cried, thinking about the truth behind those words. The Doctor really was like that: when he was angry he was a sight to behold, yet his mood could change rapidly until you didn't know where you stood. And some of the things he had to do…terrible things for a greater cause. Like Gallifrey.

After tripping through another monologue – oh god, this was too much – Rose's scene was almost at an end. The Nurse told her that Romeo was hidden at Friar Laurence's place, and would get him.

"_O, find him! Give this ring to my true knight. And bid him come to take his last farewell…" _It was her last line of the scene. She took a ring off her hand as she said it; just a plain silver band with a few spiralling patterns, and pressed it into the Nurse's hand. Why, she didn't know. It just felt right, felt more real.

As she walked offstage, she walked past the Doctor. He grinned at her and she returned the gesture, seeing the same honesty and emotion in his eyes that she had glimpsed during the balcony scene.

He really was a good actor, she told herself. Nothing more.

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That's all for now, folks! They'll be more soon. I'm really appreciating how supportive everyone is about this story, and the reviews I've had have been really lovely. So don't stop now! The button's just below…


	6. Act 6

New chapter! Apologies for not updating sooner, and thanks to all those who reviewed!

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"'_Tis torture, not mercy: heaven is here, Where Juliet lives…"_

Rose smiled to herself. She was back on the staircase, head resting against the wall, open script on her knees, dimly listening to the voices onstage. She felt tired – but it had only been an hour or so, surely? Must be the emotional side of the acting, she supposed. Ha! What an excuse.

She flicked her eyes down to the script, open at her next scene. Jesus, how much did she have to learn? It was another scene of just her and the Doctor – her and 'Romeo' – and it was a sweet one, sure. Classic Shakespeare: poetic language, sweet words.

Rose bit her tongue, grinning. She would like this scene! She looked up as voices wormed their way into her conscious thought, and then there were footsteps coming offstage. Friar Laurence passed, as did the Nurse. And…

"Hiding on the stairs again?"

"I told you, I'm not hiding. I'm waiting."

"Huddled on a dark staircase away from strangers who are actors? That's hiding in my book."

"Your book's written in Gallifreyian. It's not like I can read it."

The Doctor grinned at her. "So, our scene next? Your fiancée's out on stage."

"What are you on about?"

"Paris. You're going to marry him, right?"

Rose rolled her eyes, grinning. "And if you've forgotten, I married you. Or do you not remember?"

He came and sat down on the step next to her, tilting his head slightly and looking at her out the corner of his eyes. "You alright?"

"Yeah…it's just weird. I mean, it's always _weird_. But…acting aliens?"

"Yeah. There's something going on here, though. Something's just not right…or maybe I'm just not used to actors."

Rose turned sharply to him. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing…it's just so much help, so organised. It's like they were _waiting _for us…" he met her eyes and grinned. "Or maybe I'm just paranoid."

Standing, the Doctor grabbed Rose's hand and pulled her upright. "Now, we've got about six lines. Come on."

"What? Where?" Rose was confused. They were meant to be on soon, so where were they going…? And why?

The Doctor laughed at her confused expression. "Have you read your script, or are you just flying blind? Here…" he opened his own script to the appropriate page and showed her their scene. "It says '_Enter Romeo and Juliet, above, at the window'._ Now where might above be, hmmm?"

"Oh, right." She turned and went up the stairs as the scene below them finished. The Doctor came up behind her, slipping his hand in hers and pulling her forward to the front of the balcony gently, whispering as he did so. "You start, Julie…"

Rose already had he script open at the right page, and quickly scanned the page for her lines. Bingo.

"_Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day: it was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the hollow of thine ear: nightly she sings on yond pomegranate-tree: believe me, love, it was the nightingale."_

He was watching her as she read. It unnerved her slightly, but it _was_ only the Doctor, why should she feel nervous? Her breath caught sharply as he placed a hand on her shoulder, (his other was holding the open script) and spoke his own reply. Her heart was pounding…she was acting stupidly. It was a _play!_

His touch was so gentle. She relaxed slightly under it, calming herself down and trying to read her lines accurately and smoothly. She was going to do it right.

"_Let me be taken, let me be put to death,_" The Doctor said, _"I am content, if thou will have it so…"_

As he looked at her while speaking, Rose saw that the glint of sincerity was back. The feeling that he meant it, it was all real…get a hold of yourself, Rose! He didn't feel like that…did he? No…

She wasn't going to survive his being such a good actor. Damn him.

She giggled as she watched the Doctor proclaiming to the theatre at large (_"Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so!"_), grinning as he did so, before her turned back to her and took her hands. _"How is't, my soul? Let's talk, it is not day."_

Still smiling, Rose forced her words out, telling him that is _was_ day, it _was _the lark, he had to go, even though she didn't want him to. He smiled softly back, telling her that the more light appeared, the darker their woes became. He leaned in towards her, taking her by surprise…this wasn't in the script…Rose didn't know what to do. She knew what she _wanted_ to do, sure…

But he had timed it well, as the Nurse entered and he withdrew with an ashamed glance out at the audience. Rose heard Cassius chortle below. So it had been planned. Her heart could slow down now.

Romeo had to leave. And now! _"Then, window, let day in and let life out."_

"Farewell, farewell," Said the Doctor…Romeo…in return. "One kiss, and I'll descend."

Rose didn't need to be told twice. She kissed him softly, wishing that it wasn't under the pretext of a play. If only.

After they parted, he went to the edge of the balcony and swung himself over the edge, down a rope Rose hadn't noticed. She got the distinct impression from his smirk up at her from the stage he had known it was there. Show off.

She had to lean over the balcony to speak to him, ignoring the dull pain as it dug into her ribs. _"Art thou gone so? My lord, my love, my friend!" _Those words had all honesty behind them from Rose's point of view. My love…my friend…

They exchanged words and then he was off, vanishing offstage, and Rose had to turn back to answer to her 'mother'. Rose hadn't read ahead of herself, and didn't know what was to come. So, by the time she stumbled off stage, she was glad it was over.

The scene had progressed from words of love to that of bitterness. Juliet and Lady Capulet had discussed Romeo – Juliet's word having a double meaning – before Lady Capulet had brought up marriage and Juliet refused. Capulet himself had entered soon after, and Juliet had fought with her father over the prospect of marriage.

It became close to a screaming match; the actor playing Lord Capulet was so immersed in his role and his anger that Roe, much to her surprise, felt on the verge of tears.

As she came off, alone, she almost ran into the Nurse.

"Are you alright, child? You must excuse Abraham. He loves being Capulet – and is very good. He loves to delve deeply into his character…maybe a little too much."

Rose was leaning against the wall, hardly listening. Xander passed on his way to the stage, giving her a quick smile, which she feebly returned. The Doctor was behind him. He pulled Rose into a loose embrace, and she relaxed against him.

"Well, you certainly got ripped apart out there."

"I didn't read ahead. I should've…I didn't…"

"That's theatre for you. It looked good from the audience, if that's a consolation."

"Ha."

"Now, you better get onstage, Jules."

He gently pushed Rose in the direction of the stage, and she took the hint.

"_Happily met!" _Said Xander as she walked on. _"My lady and my wife."_

"_That may be sir, when I may be a wife."_ Rose replied smoothly. Xander winked at her in reassurance.

The rest of the scene was straightforward. There was a longish monologue (Rose discovered that the line "_Be not so long to speak, I long to die!"_ was one of the most fun to perform), but she got through it, thinking in a pleased manner soon she would be drugged and could ''exit stage right' for a while.

Her next scene was short, and she paced herself through it. On leaving with the Nurse, as they both started the next scene, the Nurse whispered to her, "Now, the next scene has your biggest monologue in the play. Oh, don't look so shocked, child. It will be fine. Just do what feels right, and don't forget to heighten emotion. It's a lovely piece."

It was time to saunter onstage yet again. Rose was starting to feel more at home with it, having done it so much. The monologue the Nurse had warned her about _was_ very long in length, and an absence of props didn't help. She tried to keep from being static – that would be boring – and tried to keep her emotions heightened.

As she pretended to drink, finally, at the end, she fell to the ground. Cassius called to her from the audience: "You'll have a bed, my Juliet, don't worry."

"Good," Rose replied as she climbed to her feet. "Don't fancy falling on the ground again, thanks."

The next scene she wasn't needed, but Xander appeared and called to her from a side room. "You want a bed? You need to lie on one on the next scene."

Together they manoeuvred a bed out of the room. It wasn't anything flash, but it remained Rose of her bed – her old bed, back at the Powell Estate. She placed a hand on the headboard, smiling. Home.

Xander and her got the bed onstage, pushing it behind the actors and near the back of the stage. Xander whispered quickly this was the most likely place it would be put, and then invited her to 'die' on it, before quietly scampering offstage.

Rose flopped down, relaxing as her muscles hit the softness. Ha – no acting required, although it was hard not to giggle as the other various actors found her 'dead'. Lucky she had her head turned away from the audience.

Trying not to move too much, she brought her script up to eye level, following the scene as it progressed. It was really quite boring lying here…

She left with the musicians at the end of the scene, walking off as the Doctor walked on. His scene was wonderful to watch; as she hid herself in the shadows at the side of the stage.

It was another scene where the emotions went from one extreme to the next. The Doctor had to be pensive, then happy, and then loose it all within a few seconds on receiving the news of Juliet's 'death'.

Rose felt drawn to the scene, unable to look away. It was so…_he_ was so…emotional. Powerful. Beautiful…real. She found herself believing his every word.

By the time he came off, Rose had bitten her lip so hard watching that the inside was bleeding. Oops.

"One more scene, Rose! Then, we're done."

"Really?"

"Yeah – then another week or two of rehearsal, we perform, we go!"

"You were…you were great out there, you know." Damn. Why did it sound so cheesy?

The Doctor beamed at this. "Yeah, you're not too bad yourself."

"Thanks."

The Doctor looked past her to the stage. "They're almost finished, I think. Time to die, yeah?" He winked at her. "Should be fun, love."

"Yeah, just a bit." Rose replied sarcastically, trying to imagine away that one little word. Just a turn of phrase.

She turned to the stage, ready to walk on.

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Another one down! My thanks to those who are still reviewing. I'm surprised you haven't given up on me! I'll update soon, promise.


	7. Act 7

Nextie! Gotta get this up quick – I'm off to a wedding! Not my own, of course, a friend of my family. Should be fun.

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Rose swung her legs onto the bed, flopping back and closing her eyes. Joyful. Lying here for most of this scene, except the massive monologue before death, of course.

The friars (that being Laurence and John) appeared and had a quick discussion. Rose found her mind wandering, the words slipping by her. With a sigh she hoped wasn't very visible from the audience; Rose lazily opened her script and followed the lines. It was along way off, sure, but if she fell asleep or something and missed her cue, she'd never hear the end of it.

Now Xander was coming on, another actor in tow. Oh, right, Xander was Paris. And…he was off. Ramble ramble…him and his page. Rose closed her eyes. She still had a while.

A new voice. _"Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. Hold, take this letter; early in the morning see thou deliver it to my lord and father…"_

Well, now, who could that _possibly_ be? Rose grinned as she followed Romeo's lines in her own script. She could tell he was milking it for all it was worth. He might not admit it, but he loved doing this, she knew. An actor at heart – but then again, wasn't that normal? Using the psychic paper to assume a false identity, bluffing through situations.

She lay longer, listening to the words of Shakespeare. Juliet's two lovers came face to face and then fought, ending in Paris' death. Rose heard Xander's last death-bed request (_"If thou be merciful open the tomb, lay me with Juliet…"_), and Romeo's response that followed. A little more talking, then there was movement next to her. She guessed Xander and been put next to the bed (but on the stage) by the Doctor. The script did say something about Paris being laid in the monument.

Now it was onto his final speech. Rose could hear the Doctor as he moved…walked around the bed…so now he was on the opposite side to her. She was lying on the side nearest the audience. He sat down next to her.

Rose tried not to smile. She might put him off if she did that. He was, once again, feeling very real and emotional. She felt her hand lifted, and gave no resistance. His hands were warm, gently gripping her own. His words were sweet and praising.

Rose had closed her eyes soon after Paris walked onstage, and so was unprepared when the Doctor's lips brushed against her forehead. She couldn't help smiling, then, part of her hoping he hadn't noticed. He would have, of course, but she could hope.

His speech was drawing to a close. She heard his give his last line (_"Thus with a kiss I die…"_), his lips softly against hers, then the touch fell away as he dropped onto the bed next to her. Her head was facing him, away from the audience, and Rose eased open her eyes to find the Doctor's own staring back at her. There was a small grin on his face.

Friar Laurence was back onstage, fretting as he found Paris' blood and Romeo's body. There was a hurried conversation between Laurence and Balthasar, until, soon enough, Rose's cue approached. The Doctor winked quickly at her before closing his own eyes.

"The lady stirs…" 

Yeah, that was it. Now, she wasn't meant to notice Romeo just yet…keeping her face towards the priest, Rose dutifully read her lines. She was trying not to look behind her at the 'sleeping' figure.

The friar left. Discovery time! And, oh, be sad, be upset, he's 'dead'. Only a few lines left for her in the entire play. And another kiss? Fine with Rose. She kissed him slowly, softly, pouring her emotion into it. If only. It's not going to happen Rose, get over it.

Then it was the finale of Juliet. _"O happy dagger!"_

She pretended to stab herself (easier if she got a prop) and fell next to the Doctor. With her blocking the audience, his eyes opened again. He grinned, whispering to her.

"Nice death."

"Same could be said for you. Have we only been doing this a few hours?"

He blinked, the slow close of his eyelids acting like a nod. "Yup. The play's about three and a half hours-ish long."

"Lord." Rose smiled. "It feels like hours and hours."

"Ah, you're not used to the theatre, young Rose, unlike a veteran such as myself."

"Oh, shut up. By the way, you don't happen to have a Dictaphone or something on board the TARDIS, do you?"

The Doctor's brow furrowed as he thought. "Probably. Why?"

"I won't be able to remember those long spiels of Juliet's – so Xander suggested I record them and listen to them instead. Learn them that way."

"Right," said the Doctor, nodding slowly. "I can see how that would work."

There was a scattering of applause from the audience. The Doctor and Rose sat up, looking across to where Cassius was beaming. "Ah, marvellous! Can I have all cast up on stage, please, all cast."

Xander got up from the floor to sit on Rose's other side on the edge of the bed. "I think that went okay. I still don't see why you were worried Rose, you were fine, even reading cold."

On Rose's other side, the Doctor grinned at Xander. "She's human. The worriers of the universe, they are."

Rose glared at him as he pulled a seemingly innocent face. "What? I am compelled to say the truth."

Cassius was waving his hands for attention. "Well, I think we've got a splendid play here, my players. A little work on lines, some more blocking, and it'll be a show to remember!"

The cast cheered and applauded. Rose couldn't help but grin at their apparent enthusiasm.

"And our two visitors! Well, I don't think we were quite prepared for your talents!" Cassius was smiling widely – almost creepily – and directly at them now. Rose shifted slightly under his gaze, but the Doctor appeared to be basking in it.

"Well, we do what we can, esteemed director."

"Yes, we can see that! I propose a meeting tonight at the Quill. A cast wide meal, some wine, and some discussions as to how we can make this play more beautiful than it already is. Who is with me?"

More cheers. Rose glanced at the Doctor and he shrugged. "We shouldn't seem to isolate ourselves in our box, nor should we shun hospitality. It might be quite fun."

"What, eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double and end up kissing complete strangers?"

"Did I say that?"

"A while ago, but yeah."

"Sounds like me."

The cast was dismissed. Rose was informed by Xander that it was only mid afternoon. He asked her and the Doctor if they wanted a tour of the surrounding town, but the Doctor declined, saying he should check on the TARDIS. Rose took his lead and also said no, telling Xander she was going to record her lines like he suggested.

"You could've gone with him, you know." The Doctor said to her as they watched Xander walking away. He hadn't seemed disappointed or anything, simply grinned and said he'd see them at the Quill.

"If I don't record my lines now, I don't think I will. I wanna get it out of the way."

"Whatever you say. I think he's taken by you, though."

Rose did a double take. "Who? Xander?"

"Yeah. Sometimes happens to actors. There's this system called method acting, right, which means that the actors get so into their character and their character's emotions that they can start to think like them. Create a history, things like that. Makes it more real to the audience."

"And…?"

He shrugged. "And Paris loves Juliet."

"So…you think he's so into in his character that he's got a thing for me now?"

"Well, yeah. Happens all the time – what about all those Hollywood stars who run off with their co-stars after a film? Same thing."

"If you say so."

"I do say so." They had walked back to the TARDIS now, and the Doctor was looking in his pockets for the key. "Most actors experience it, if they're that devoted. For some it's easier; especially if the feelings were already there. That sometimes happens, too."

Rose willed herself not to blush. Was he talking about her? Or…himself?

Get. A. Grip. Rose.

The lock clicked and the door swung inwards. The Doctor bounded up to the console and began digging around under it. "I'm sure I had a vocal recorder somewhere…ah, got it."

He straightened up, holding a small silver casing. "Red to record, press again to stop. Green for playback, use the disk at the top to select the file. Oh, and pressing red when you're selecting will delete that file. Got that?"

"Yeah." Rose left the console room and headed to her room. Last thing she needed was his laughter as she tried to recite her lines. Just because he didn't trip over Shakespearian words.

ooooooooo

"…_to whose foul mouth no wholesome…_healthsome_ air breathes in…shit."_

Rose clicked the device off. This was the third time she'd tripped over Juliet's really big monologue. Damn it – at this rate, she'd never get it done. It was the last big block of lines, too. Rose found the sound file and carefully deleted it, before switching the device back to record and beginning yet again. "Act four, scene three. Just before she drinks…_Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins…"_

This time, she managed to get through it. Sighing in relief, she looked up in time to see the Doctor enter her room. "Didn't think I'd interrupt. You know, I can hear you swearing in the console room?"

"Oh, _thanks_…"

"It's about time to meet at the Quill. Come on."

She left her room, following the Doctor back to the console room. "You know where to go?"

He grinned at her as she shrugged on his trench coat. "One, it'll have a quill on the sign – go figure. Two, _he_ might know…" The Doctor pointed over by the door, where Xander had appeared. He waved at Rose, who waved back.

"Now, shall we go?" The Doctor grinned as he ushered Rose and Xander out. "Lead on, Xander."

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There – hope that's okay. I hope to update soon, and I'll make an effort to this time!


	8. Act 8

Thank you so much for all your supportive reviews! It's lovely to read them all and know that this story is so well liked.

I think it's time for another disclaimer. Just because I've taken the characters out of their boxes doesn't mean I won't give them back. They'll be back on the shelves tomorrow at eleven, promise, without a scratch.

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The Quill was a large inn-style building, full of sound and life. Some of the cast were already there, seated around a massive table that took up half of the room. There were cries of greetings and welcome as the three of them walked in, and glasses of a pale wine poured.

Rose sat between the Doctor and Xander, slightly apprehensive of what the night may bring. She needn't have worried; the actors were happy and friendly and in their element, talkative and eager to show off to guests, trying to outdo each other with flamboyant stories of past performances they had been involved in.

As platters of food arrived and drinks were refilled, Rose found herself listening to a recitation of a past performance of Xander's. He had an attentive audience – Rose, next to him, Lady Capulet, across from them, and others on the opposite side to Rose.

"So, it gets to the place where Puck admits to Oberon about screwing up the eye magic and getting Lysander and Demetrius confused, right? He's only got two lines in there; he's only got to say something about how _'fate o'er-rules' …_but nerves get the better of him, and he goes and starts on a monologue from the next act! There's this look of shock on Oberon's face, and so he grabs Puck by the scruff of the neck, and cuts him off by saying; '_Thou screwest up.' _And then it continues as normal!"

There was a roar of laughter from the listening actors. Rose laughed too, although she knew she couldn't really relate. Lady Capulet wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and nodded. "Oh, it's all down to the characterisation, I think. If you characterise right, then nerves aren't an issue and there are no mistakes."

There was a murmur of agreement. Another actor – Rose thought she recognised him as the man who played Tybalt's off-sider, Abraham – swayed his head in a half agreeing motion.

"But then characterisation comes down to what you use, and if you're using the right method you should be fine anyway."

There was another agreement. Abraham had a point, obviously. Rose was a little confused, but tried not to show it. Lady Capulet looked over at her as Abraham involved himself in a conversation about set designs.

"So, what do you use?" she smiled from across at Rose.

"Excuse me?" Rose was still puzzled, and this direct question didn't work.

"Acting, child! What do you use? Are you a method actor, or do you step into character, or pretend it's you in that situation, or what?"

"Umm…" Rose faltered. "I'm not really sure. I guess I pretend it's me."

"Ah!" Lady Capulet clapped her hands. "As I do!"

"I'm a methodee myself", said Xander, from Rose's left. "I think it's deeper, and gives a better understanding of the character to the actor."

"Well, I suppose." Lady Capulet didn't seem to have a proper reply so she joined in a conversation next to her.

"So, you pretend?" asked Xander to Rose. "I can see the advantages of it. I just like the method better."

"Yeah…" said Rose. She was sure Xander hadn't finished. There was something else he wanted to say. Rose waited for him to continue.

"You two are really good, you know. Really believable. And it's important in Romeo and Juliet…and all that's just acting?" He gave a low whistle. "It's impressive. And I know you don't believe me, but it is."

"What's all just acting?"

"The love."

Her moment's hesitation gave her away. Xander grinned at her. "There _is_ something between you!"

"Keep it down!" Rose hissed at him, flicking her eyes to the Doctor on her other side as an indication. There was no need of worry; he was immersed in a conversation with Leo about something or other.

Xander was still grinning. Rose sighed. "Yes and no," she whispered in exasperation.

"Yes _and_ no?"

Rose bit her lip. She was sure she could trust Xander, but at the same time…

Xander beat her to it, whispering to her. "You love him, but you don't know if he feels the same. Am I right?"

Rose nodded, relieved she hadn't had to say it. "So some things in _Romeo and Juliet _are easy for me to say because I feel the same, see?"

Xander nodded. "I don't think you've got anything to worry about. He was acting just as believable towards you…"

Rose knew what he meant. "He's a good actor though. That was really just acting."

"How can you be sure?" Xander winked at her. "Never know."

Rose gave a small nod, staring off into space. She couldn't keep thinking like this. The Doctor wasn't like this; why should he involve himself in something as human and domestic as love? She couldn't help herself, but she could hide it. And maybe that was the next best thing. The play might be her undoing, but that was her lookout.

She flicked her eyes over to him, where he was laughing with Leo about something. Leave it, Rose, leave it.

oooooooooooooo

"I will say this, Leo – I've travelled a lot, but this food is great. You should try some of this dish…" The Doctor indicated one with his fork.

"Oh, I can't eat that!" Smiled Leo apologetically. "I'm allergic to Coursea nuts. They're a main ingredient of that dish."

"Coursea nuts?" interjected Montague, from across the table. "Really? That must be a problem, they're quite common."

"It is," nodded Leo. "What about you?"

"Oh, it's Seluka Serum for me."

"Isn't that an alcohol?" asked the Doctor, joining in. "Does that mean you're allergic to all alcohols, just the serums, or just the one?"

"Just the one, thank Shakespeare. And you Doctor? Do you have an allergy of any kind?"

"Well…I'm allergic to aspirin. Seriously!" he added, as both Montague and Leo chuckled. "One tablet, and I'm a gonner. Luckily I don't run into it much."

"Aspirin?" echoed Antonio from where he had been listening. "Honestly Doctor – some things are so strange about you I'm surprised you _are_ human!"

The Doctor grinned but didn't comment. Let them think that he was. Wouldn't hurt anyone.

"So, Doctor." Antonio's voice, slightly slurred by wine, but with a business-like edge cut into his thoughts. "Can you fight?"

"Swordfight, you mean? Yeah, I've done a bit…" Out the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw a smile appear of Rose next to him, before she turned back to Xander in conversation. Two guesses what she was remembering.

"Excellent!" Antonio drained his glass and placed the empty vessel back on the table. "I hate having to teach people the art. Some have it, some don't. If you do it'll all be easier." He trailed off into unintelligible mumbling.

"What do you think of our players?" Leo was slightly more sober than his friend and his words were clear.

"Excellent!" The Doctor mimicked of Antonio, before winking at Leo. "Seriously, they're great. I notice you are not onstage, though."

"No, not me. My talents are located behind the scenes. Setting and properties, you understand. Vital, but overlooked when it comes to the discussions of a play. It is always the acting which stays with people, not how the set was crafted, or where that beautiful candle holder might have been found."

"And what about Antonio?" the Doctor looked across to where Antonio was laughing loudly with Montague.

"He sometimes acts, but is helping with the production itself this time around. Assistant directing and general minion for Cassius, I think he said to me." Leo nodded in thought, before raising his glass to the Doctor. "It's going to be good – a play to remember."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Late in the evening, the wine had done it's magic on most of those present, and spoken conversations were getting harder to understand. Rose, having no want to get hammered in an alien environment (in the literal sense), had kept a mind on what she drank and so felt fine. By the look of the Doctor, he had done the same. That, or Time Lords had a different alcohol tolerance. Probably.

The assembly of players and others began to disperse, some going home to sleep off the wine, some going to another inn or two. Before he left, Cassius managed to tell the entire inn that rehearsals would start tomorrow morning at ten.

Rose could feel tiredness creeping up on her. Bed seemed like a good idea, sometime soon.

Xander asked if they wanted coffee or something. He said he was going to get one anyway, needed something after the wine – did they want to accompany him?

Rose shrugged indecisively, but the Doctor seemed keen, so the three left and relocated to the same small café they had been at earlier in the day. It seemed like so long ago they had been sitting there.

"So, who are you?" Xander asked, coffee in hand. "I mean, you only got here this morning, and there hasn't really been much chance to ask."

"We're travellers." It was the Doctor's standard reply. "Just…travelling. Wherever we want."

Xander seemed impressed. "Must be fantastic. Where do you go?"

"Everywhere."

"Tell me about it?" Xander seemed genuinely interested.

The Doctor bit his lip and grinned at Rose. What to say? What to talk about? "There's too much to say. Must say though, this is the first time I've been to a thespian planet. It's not bad."

Xander smiled sadly as he finished his coffee. "There are always bad things. Everywhere."

Soon, after light and meaningless conversation, Xander bade them goodnight, saying he would see them tomorrow at the Lily.

"You think there's something he's not telling us?" The Doctor asked Rose as they watched him walk away.

"What makes you say that?"

"There's something in his eyes. He wants to say something but can't." The Doctor's brow furrowed. "I wonder what it could be…no use worrying," he said suddenly, morbid mood vanishing and furrowed brow bring replaced by a smile. "I think it's about time we were getting back to the TARDIS."

The two of them walked back through the streets, listening to various snatches of drunken song and argument from various inns and bars. Rose felt some unknown weight lifted from her as her feet walked over the familiar grating of the console room.

The Doctor had removed both his trench coat and suit jacket, and was rolling up his sleeves. Rose rolled her eyes at him. "Let me guess, a little more work on the TARDIS, right?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"I'm going to bed. Remember that you do need sleep, yeah?"

He waved cheekily at her as she left. Falling onto her bed (remembering to switch the recordings of her as Juliet on and praying that it would work) Rose wondered in passing, just before her eyes closed, what tomorrow may bring.

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What a cliché to end it on. Ah well. Nice little chapter of leisure before the work starts. Hope it's okay! Reviews are appreciated, as always. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all, if I don't update before Monday. Have fun!


	9. Act 9

Another chapter before Xmas! Yay! Hope it's what you wanted!

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"Once more, from the top!"

It was two days later. The day before had been spent on another run through – this time with many pauses and notes from Cassius. Rose hadn't even got close to the Doctor this time, much to her private disappointment.

On stage, she growled inwardly at Cassius as she retraced her steps across the stage. They had been doing the same dance – specially choreographed for the Capulet ball – for over an hour and Rose felt that she could be doing it in her sleep. At least Xander seemed to share her annoyance, pulling a face at Cassius' back as he turned away.

The Doctor didn't dance in the scene, so instead he was practicing the swordfight with Tybalt and looking incredibly pleased with himself, as he swung a practice sword around with impressive accuracy. He had the self-confident smirk on his face that Rose knew well. Ah well, let him show off.

Rose grasped Xander's hands and began again. Step, step, turn…it wasn't her fault that Lady Capulet couldn't dance. She was the reason for the repeats, not Rose. They finished once more, and all turned to look at Cassius, who was sitting in his chair, a scrutinising look on his face.

"Well, it will do for now. For today. More practice tomorrow and it will look brilliant. It will look and feel better in costume anyway, my players. Now, my dear Juliet, you're needed for a costume fitting. Marie here will help you." He indicated a tall, pale woman near him, who had turned when she heard her name.

Rose nodded, jumping off the stage and walking over to Marie, who smiled and took her hand, leading her to a room off the side of the theatre.

"What's your name? I mean, you're real name – Cassius calls you Juliet, of course, but that would be too much a coincidence for that to be your actual name, right?"

"Yeah – my name's Rose."

"Ah, _a rose by any other name would smell as sweet!_"

Rose laughed. "I guess you could say that. By the way, how are we doing this?"

Marie looked politely puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Like, costuming. Is it gonna be traditional Shakespeare, or what?"

"Traditional? Oh, you mean the women in…ahem…_elaborate _dresses and the men in tights?"

Rose hesitated, biting her lip at the mental image of the Doctor in tights as it silenced her for a moment. "Yeah."

Marie grinned. "I don't go there. Not my thing, see? Cassius wants me to do costumes, fine – but I do it my way. He's already said I can do what I like. So we're going modern. That way I can get you – and the other girls – in nice, really elegant gowns. And get the guys dressed to the nines," she added as an afterthought.

She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door. As she pushed it open, she stepped back and let Rose go inside first. Rose stepped inside and felt herself stop dead.

It wasn't as big as the TARDIS wardrobe, no way – but almost as impressive. Clothes were on three-layered floor to ceiling racks, on all four walls. There were shelves of shoes and hats. Rose stepped further in and heard Marie come in behind her, closing the door.

"Great, isn't it? This is my haven."

Rose grinned. For some reason, she felt like smiling. Maybe it was the sheer magnitude of it all, maybe it was the feel. She didn't know.

Marie walked past her to the centre of the small room. She spread her arms and spun around. "This room is traditional and flamboyant stuff. Specialised. Through there," she pointed to a door almost hidden by the costumes next to it, "Is where we ant to go. The modern stuff is kept there."

Rose followed her across to the door, pausing every now and them to stroke a sleeve or inspect a cloak. For some reason, she felt that these garments were art more than clothes.

The next room was better lit but just as packed. Marie immediately walked over to a rack and scanned it, pulling out a few dresses.

"Now, how many do you need?"

"I…um…" Rose hadn't thought about this. "I don't know…sorry."

Marie smiled at Rose over her shoulder. "That's okay. I've done Romeo and Juliet before as an assistant costumer. I can't remember off the top of my head, but I think it's about five or six. A few a re-used for more then one scene. Easier that way."

She pulled out a few dresses at random, handing them over to Rose. "You don't have your script, do you?"

"Um, no – it's outside. I didn't need it for the dancing."

"No matter. Looking at it logically, can you remember what scenes your in?"

"Umm…the ball, the balcony scene…the wedding to Romeo…"

Marie had turned back to her by now. "Let's start with the wedding dress, shall we?" she motioned for Rose to put the dresses she was holding down on a small table in the centre of the room. "White, I think. It's both traditional and expected…"

Five minutes later, Rose found herself standing in front of a mirror in a long white gown. It was made of satin-ish fabric, flowing and elegant, floor-length and strapless. It was straight cut, Rose was pleased to see, unlike the meringue-style she had witnessed before.

Marie looked at her and nodded. "I think we should show Cassius."

Rose picked up the edge of the dress so as not to walk on it and followed her back though the first room and to the door. Walking outside, Rose was half disappointed half pleased to see the lack of actors onstage and in the theatre in general. Many were gone, but some were left; the Doctor and Xander included. They were both lounging with open scripts, testing each other on lines.

Marie led her past them to Cassius. Rose privately hoped they had noticed her; especially the Doctor. She was bought back to the present situation as Marie presented her to Cassius. "What do you think? For the wedding dress?"

Cassius asked her to turn around, one hand under his chin as he contemplated how Rose looked. "Stunning. Marie, you've done it again. Keep up the good work, my girl."

Rose swept back past her two friends as she went back to the costume room. Unseen by her was the look of impressed shock that had registered on the Doctor's face the first time she walked past. It had been quickly hidden when she turned back, and he was looking at his script as she walked back past.

Rose hadn't seen it, but Xander had. When the door closed, Xander put his script down, murmuring to the Doctor as he did so. "Rose didn't look too bad, did she?"

There was a moment of silence, before the Doctor replied. "Oh, was she in here? I didn't see her."

"Don't lie!" Xander laughed. "You couldn't keep you eyes off her."

The Doctor was going to reply wittily, but didn't because Xander was telling the truth. Rose _had_ looked gorgeous in that dress, and he had only just caught himself in time. What would Rose have thought if she had seen him staring at her like a dim-witted teenage boy? He couldn't let her see that. He fleetingly wondered if she had picked up on his silent slip when they had done the balcony scene.

It had been accidental and planned at once. His hearts working faster than his mind, he supposed. She hadn't mentioned it – maybe she hadn't seen it. But she had been looking right at him…why hadn't she said anything? He could only hope that their friendship hadn't been damaged by it. Mind you, she _had_ smiled when she was mean to be 'dead', when he kissed her...

"Your friend was staring at you, did you see?" Marie asked as she closed the door behind her.

"My friend?" Did she mean…? No, he had been studying his script.

"Romeo. He was staring at you."

Rose smiled to herself. She hoped he had seen her, but that was just a self-centred private wish. And he had seen her. She wondered what he thought of the dress.

An hour later, Rose wandered out of the costume room felling very pleased with herself. After retrieving her script, she had sat down with Marie and found what she needed for what scene. By reusing some dresses, they had got it down to five. Marie seemed pleased with that, and had leapt sprightly up to the racks to find the appropriate garments.

By the end of it, Rose had five costumes. Her favourite was the one she had nicknamed her 'death gown', which she wore while 'dead' and when she died. It was floor-length, white, angelic and had flowing flared sleeves. The thing she liked most about it was the top – the sleeves started part way down her upper arm, and the dress ran straight across her chest form there, so her shoulders and neck were bare.

A close second was a floor-length dark green skirt and matching halter-neck top, which was to be worn first - for the Capulet ball and the balcony scene after. There was also a nightgown-like one for the evening scenes, and a simple navy blue knee-length one for Juliet's daywear, as well as the wedding dress.

Rose loved being in them; they made her feel pretty, elegant, and like Juliet. She left with the strict instructions to send the Doctor in, and so the two of them switched places; Rose sitting with Xander and memorising lines, and the Doctor in the costume rooms.

"Xander, can you run my first scene with me again?"

Xander put down his own script. "Yeah, sure. How are the recordings?"

"Helping." They were, and Rose could now recite at least half of her massive monologue from memory, and the rest of it with a bit of prompting. All in all, she was pleased with her progress. A bit more, and she would have nothing to worry about.

She managed to get through her first scene almost word perfect, and what she missed Xander said could be forgiven easily and done onstage. A few changed words meant nothing to the overall effect. They were discussing what was and wasn't forgivable as far as lines and word changes went, when the door to the costume room opened and Marie came out with her Romeo.

Rose tried not to look, tried to pretend she hadn't seen him. Out the corner of her eye she saw his look over towards them, but she didn't make eye contact. When he turned away, on the other hand, she turned to look at what Marie had given him.

The Doctor was wearing a black suit – Rose was strongly reminded of the tuxedo he had been wearing on the parallel world – with a black tie and white shirt. It looked normal, really, but there was something about it that made him look absolutely gorgeous. Rose decided it was something to do with the way the jacket was cut, how it fitted him perfectly.

She took a breath and tore her eyes away, turning away slightly as the Doctor and Marie returned to the room. No eye contact, Rose, none at all…

She heard the door close and dropped her script. Xander was grinning at her.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just your jaw about to hit the ground."

Rose hit him with her script. "You can't tell him."

"Why not? He was doing the same for you, you know."

Rose did a double take. "Really?"

"Yeah. Couldn't take his eyes off you – except when you turned around, that is. Then he acted like nothing had happened. I can't help but notice, Rose, that you did the same thing."

"Yeah, so?"

Xander sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why didn't you look at each other? Were you afraid something might slip out? That's what it looked like."

Rose bit her lip, looking at the closed door of the costume room. That was it exactly. At least, it was for her. Why didn't the Doctor look at her, though? Was he being absent minded, or caught up in his head – or was his reason the same as hers?

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Yayness. More done. I love writing! I hope everyone's Xmas is going well at present. Ha! Unintentional pun! Present!


	10. Act 10

Hope everyone had a great Christmas! I don't own Dr Who, it wasn't under my Xmas tree (damn).

Oh, and all those who saw Runaway Bride, you are evil.

Evil, I say.

I'm from New Zealand – we won't see it until around July sometime. But I did buy the boxed set of season two a few days ago, so I've got stuff to tide me over and stop me going into withdrawal.

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"One, two, three – defend! Good, good. Tybalt, keep your blade up, Mercutio, keep the thrusts steady."

The rest of the cast had taken on the feel of an enthusiastic sports crowd, making jokes about bets and points as Tybalt and Mercutio rehearsed their fight. Rose, Xander and the Doctor were among them, grinning like maniacs. The feeling was infectious.

Rose quietened from her laughter as a thought struck her. "Hey, how long have we been here, then?"

"Five days. Well, this is day five." The Doctor grinned at her. "Time just slips by, doesn't it?"

She looked back at him and smiled. "Yeah, yeah it does."

Onstage, Tybalt and Mercutio had finished their fight, and Cassius was calling to the Doctor to come up and do his fight with Tybalt. In response, the Doctor grinned and bounded up onstage, taking the sword from Mercutio as they passed. He swung the sword around a bit amidst the cheers from the rest of the cast, Rose and Xander included.

The fights were choreographed especially, but the more the practice was done the more natural the fight seemed. There was no chance of either actor getting hurt, so long as their opponent knew the moves as well as them. The watching cast knew about the false nature of the fights – it would be much too dangerous to improvise a fight, no matter how much better it would seem.

The Doctor was now facing Tybalt, their blades both raised. It was Romeo who made the first move, and as the Doctor did so the cheering restarted.

Rose had to admit that swordfights, choreographed or not, were wonderful to watch. It brought back memories of the Sycorax, and Christmas. That seemed so long ago, now, as she watched the blades clash and part as Tybalt and Romeo tried to kill one another.

It looked real, felt real. The moves were so perfectly executed that the fight seemed to take on a life of its own. Rose felt her heart in her throat, even though she knew he wouldn't get hurt. They were both too good for that to happen. There wouldn't be any sloppy slashes or mistakes.

It had seemed a bit stage when Rose had thought about it – modern-ish (not to mention upper class) costumes mixed with swords? Wasn't that a bit of a contrast? She had asked Xander about it, who had shrugged and told her that all directors have visions and like to mix things up. Swords were traditional in Romeo and Juliet anyway, and much more theatrical and visual.

Rose had agreed. Even in her present day, theatre types were a little weird. So she had taken the explanation with an open mind and not thought about it anymore. After all, the stage was traditional, so why not liven it up with modern costumes? If they could pull it off, the effect would be great.

The swordfight onstage was getting faster, if that was possible. Both actors were deep in concentration, the complex moves taking up all of their thoughts. The fights had been choreographed yesterday. There were three – Mercutio and Tybalt, Tybalt and Romeo, and Romeo and Paris. The four actors involved had spent the last day going over the set moves with the choreographer, slowly and painstakingly, but it had paid off.

With a cry of something akin to triumph, the Doctor gave a complex move and a melodramatic stab. The blade went 'through' Tybalt (just under the arm, but done on such and angle and so fast it looked real), who collapsed and 'died'.

There was a louder roar from the assembled crowd and the Doctor pulled Tybalt up, both of them grinning. The Doctor pointed his sword at Rose and Xander. Rose thought he was pointing at her, but he called Xander up to do their fight. Xander took Tybalt's sword and leapt up onstage as they fray began again.

Rose sat, leaning her hand on her head, and watched them go. This fight wasn't as complex or anything as the other one, but just as good to watch, Xander displaying a similar level of skill as Tybalt before him. The Doctor was better than both, though. Mind you, Rose thought, he was better at most things than those around him.

Xander stumbled and fell. Rose thought it had been an accident, until she saw Cassius smiled and nod to himself out the corner of her eye. A planned accident. Romeo made the killing blow, and Paris gasped out his final request – to be lain in the tomb with Juliet, before Xander coughed dramatically and collapsed. There was another round of applause as Xander raised himself from the stage and walked down.

Cassius stood and applauded longer than everyone else, commanding attention. "Delightful! Now, my players, we are going to go over the Capulet ball, that's act one, scene five. All those unneeded, report to Marie for costuming. If you have already, or after, go to Leo and ask what needs doing. We perform in five days!"

The actors began to disperse themselves. "Five days?" asked Rose to the Doctor, who had retuned to sitting next to her.

"That's what he said."

"I didn't realise it was so close."

"Why, you worrying again?" He grinned at her, trying to comfort. "What you got to be worried about?"

Rose paused. He was right. She had got compliments on her acting; her lines were almost down (thanks to both Xander and the Doctor being incredibly patient with her; and Xander's idea to record her lines) and she was sorted for costumes. What more was there to worry about?

Maybe the fact that she was hopelessly in love with her Romeo but couldn't tell him.

There was always that.

The Doctor stood. Rose took the cue, Xander behind her, and the three made their way to the stage, already teeming with the needed actors. The scene began.

Even though it was only the second time this scene had been done with all the actors together, the time between had been the chance to revise lines, pinpoint emotion and, much to the annoyance of half the cast and the folly of Lady Capulet, choreograph and practice the dance.

Rose pretended she was Juliet, as normal, and danced with Xander the way she had been shown and taught. They got it right; a few couples made minor mistakes and one last it all together. Rose could see Cassius privately fuming, but to the relief of all, he let it slide and didn't restart them.

The dance went until Romeo made his first line of the scene. Slightly breathless, Rose stayed with Xander, chatting animatedly to the other guests while Romeo noticed her. She was listening intently for her cue, trying to gauge when about Romeo would make himself known to her and she had to speak.

She almost jumped out of her skin when it happened. The Doctor was irritatingly talented at creeping up behind her without making a sound. She knew he enjoyed scaring her, much to her own annoyance. One of these times she would hear him before her cue and not give him any satisfaction by jumping. Prove he couldn't do it every time.

Every time their eyes met, which was less than last time, the Doctor gave Rose what seemed, to her, to be a small, shy smile. She unconsciously returned it – so, both subconsciously hiding something, then?

Their kiss, although Romeo and Juliet's first and not their own, was slightly longer than before, Rose reflected. Her heart had leapt when the cue approached, and the Doctor had met her lips with the same softness as before, the same tenderness. But there was something else there, too, that Rose couldn't identify.

The rest of the scene passed in a blur to Rose. Sooner rather than later, it was over, and Cassius was applauding and praising them on knowing their lines and their performances. Then, Cassius was dismissing the other actors and Rose found herself lying on the bed and pretending to be dead, for Cassius wanted to go over the final scene again.

Rose had developed a liking for this scene, because not much was required of her. As she lay back, closing her eyes, she heard Cassius mention that he wanted to go from Xander's line at forty-nine to the end of Romeo's last monologue.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to, Rose," he said to her kindly. "You don't do anything."

"I've got nothing to do anyway; I don't mind." Truth be told, she wouldn't have left anyway – both her friends in this place were here, and she didn't fancy walking around a strange city alone. And if she was going to stay, why not practice being 'dead'?

It was another way to get another kiss, anyway.

While Xander retrieved two of the practice swords from the earlier fights, Rose listened in on the discussion Cassius and the Doctor were having about the way his monologue should be performed.

"You've done it beautifully before, Romeo. I know you can do it again. Were you holding back, though?"

"Ah, no. Why do you say that?"

"I just thought I saw a possibility of more emotion. Really let go."

The Doctor flicked his eyes over to Rose, who was grinning back at him. "Yeah, sure…"

Cassius walked off the stage to watch, and the Doctor turned back to Rose, pulling a face and shrugging. "Directors are weird. And you – no smiling, or you'll put me off."

"Oh shut up, you thespian." Rose ginned, swinging her legs up onto the bed and laying back. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the softness of the pillows as Xander entered and the rehearsal began. She liked listening to them – and as their was no need for her to worry about lines or cues, her mind could wander as the words were said.

An unbidden mental image the Doctor in his suit appeared in Rose's mind. Oh, he was so hot in that! She had to stop herself from smiling. She wasn't meant to, or she might put him off. Maybe she should, just to annoy him. It was a rehearsal, after all. They'd only have to do it again, no biggie.

She was brought back to the consciousness of what was going on by the clash of metal. They were up to the fight, then. She had lost track of it, herself – not that it mattered. There was a murmur of speech – she was hardly listening after all – and there was a thud as Xander fell. His last line, then silence. A pause as 'Romeo' collected himself and knelt next to the body.

Then the speech began. Rose had initially grimaced at its length – it was the longest monologue in the play (except one of Friar Laurence's, but only by a few lines). One of her own came close, short of this one by two lines. Still, it was a lot to remember - and he was doing it without his script, God knows how he managed to learn it all. Show off.

Still, he was beautiful. In acting (and, she corrected herself, in everything else). So real, so sincere…why couldn't she act like that? She sighed inside her head, listening to his words. Since she couldn't open her eyes, she had to depend on her hearing to listen to where he was both in the script and physically. Her weight shifted on the bed as he sat down, and Rose felt her hand softly lifted. He was pulling out the stops on this one, obviously. Cassius wanted emotion? Rose knew that the Doctor would rise to the challenge.

They went on like this – he was stroking her hair, kissing her forehead, all the time his hand in hers. And a few times Rose thought she could feel something on her hand – moisture. The third time it happened, she risked opening an eye a crack.

He was crying.

No way! No one should be able to act that well, that was completely unfair! Rose closed her eye, _really_ willing her lips not to curve into a smile. Cassius would be pleased; she thought this might have been what he was meaning when he wanted more emotion.

His speech had almost ended. She was going to meet his lips again, and in a flash of inspiration, decided to repay an earlier message, mistaken or not. She was almost nervous in excitement – she'd have one chance – and as the Doctor's lips left hers, trying to move her own as little as possible so Cassius wouldn't see, she mouthed the same thing. _I love you._

She did it without opening her eyes, and was rewarded with a pause before his last few words. Had he seen? Did he realise? Or was that pause just theatrical?

There was applause from Cassius as Rose opened her eyes and sat up. He had liked, it, and layered praise on the Doctor, much to his embarrassment and Rose's amusement. He let the both of them go for a break, wanting to speak to Xander about the swordfight.

Rose followed the Doctor as he left (he seemed to know where he was going) and wondered what would happen now. Would it be mentioned? Would it be dismissed? Or, in his mind, would it sit and create havoc like it had in hers?

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So, hope your holidays are being good to you! I'll hopefully update soon.


	11. Act 11

Thank you for the great show of support this story is continually getting. I'm pleased to report (as you may have noticed) that it's broken 100 reviews – and I couldn't be happier. Thanks for making it happen, guys!

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"Jesus, I didn't know you could act like that…" Rose said to the Doctor. They were in the foyer of the theatre, sitting on a bench and relaxing in the break they had from the stage. The Doctor's tears had dried, but he still had a Romeo-ish look of thought on his face.

"I didn't really either. Well, I lie, I did. But I haven't for years." He stood and stretched, slipped his hands into his pockets and wandered over to a wall of photos. Rose sat for a moment longer.

"I never could. I'm not any good at doing the whole real thing, I don't think," she said as she got up and made her way over to him. "I could fake cry, maybe, but -" She stopped when she saw the Doctor wasn't listening. "What is it?"

He was staring intently at the pictures, flicking his gaze from one to another. "Have you seen this, Rose?"

"Seen what?" She looked at the photo nearest her. It was of a group of smiling people sitting on the stage of the theatre. A cast photo.

"These are photos of past productions. I had no idea that we were part of an established group of players."

"What do you mean?"

The Doctor pointed to a few different photos. "Every play has the same cast, give or take a few…" 

Rose was really looking at them now. One caught her eye and grimaced as she saw the centre figure was holding a person's bloodied head. "Oh, what's that one?"

"Umm…" The Doctor leant in and checked the name at the base of the picture. "Macbeth."

"So that's Macbeth's head, then. God, it's so…real!" Indeed, the colour and expression of the face, and the fact it appeared to be dripping blood was a sure homage to whoever had made it. 

The Doctor nodded looking at the head, too. "Yeah…not too nice…"

There was some noise from the theatre. Both the Doctor and Rose looked at each other, then at the door. Voices were coming though – more than a few – the other actors were back. The Doctor took the lead, wandering back into the theatre, Rose behind him.

Indeed, the other actors were back. Cassius was ordering people around, preparing for another scene. He smiled when he saw them.

"Ah, my dears. Ready to begin again?" He turned to an assistant, muttering something that sent the girl running, before addressing the room at large. "I need all those involved in the Capulet Ball scene. It's time to run that dance again!"

There was a general moan from those involved. Rose looked for Paris as she began to walk towards the stage, but there was no familiar flash of blue hair. Cassius was near, so she took the opportunity as it presented itself.

"Where did Xander go?"

"Hmm?" Cassius turned to her, considering her question. "Who?"

"Lysander. Paris?"

Cassius' face broke into a grin. "Oh, yes – he asked me to tell you – he remembered a more pressing commitment and had to leave. Don't worry, I have another Paris for you, my Juliet."

As he turned away, Rose turned to the Doctor, who had been listening – she could tell from the puzzled and slightly suspicious look on his face. Before she could speak, he beat her to it. "Rose, listen. If Cassius or I ask you if you're okay, say you're tired, and sound like you mean it."

"What? Why?"

He shook his head quickly. "Don't – I'll explain later. Just promise me you'll do that."

"Um, yeah."

"Good. Now sit." He smiled briefly as she obeyed, then made his way over to Cassius.

"Director Cassius? I'm worried about Rose. She's exhausted – and I'm feeling the same. Could you maybe see clear to giving us this afternoon off? Marie wants us to run a final eye over our costumes anyway, so we'll be close."

Cassius looked at the Doctor closely, before he looking him past at where Rose was sitting. He called out to her. "My dear? Are you well?"

Rose looked up, looking between the two of them, tiredly. Unbeknownst to Cassius, the Doctor gave her a quick wink and a miniscule nod. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired, that's all. I'm fine." She got up, as Cassius nodded to the Doctor.

"Yes, of course, the afternoon is yours. You'll be in the costume room, yes? In case we desperately need you."

The Doctor smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you."

He walked back to Rose. "Smile and look relieved."

She did so. "Why am I doing this?" she muttered through closed teeth.

"Because we've been given the afternoon off as we've been rehearsing so hard and we're _so_ tired. And Marie wants us to run a final eye over our costumes, _remember?_"

"Right." She followed him over to the costume room door, thanking Cassius as they passed. He smiled gently back at her, telling her to take it easy for tomorrow.

The costume room was empty. Rose closed the door behind her, as the Doctor went silently through to the inner room and she followed. After closing that door, Rose turned to find the relieved and calm expression that had been on the Doctor's face had been replaced with one of intense concentration.

"Why are we here?"

"Xander. That's not right." He sighed, pulling out of his mind and looking at her. "We are here because it was a viable excuse, and the amount of insulation thus provided by the costumes allows no one to eavesdrop on us." He waved a hand toward the door. "And two rooms means we can hear should someone approach us. So, about Xander. What do you think?"

Rose turned her mind to what she knew about him. It was so little, but it wasn't like him to do this, she knew that. "He would have said good bye. And he wouldn't have forgotten something as important as 'another commitment' anyway."

The Doctor nodded, arms crossed. "That's just about what I think. He was scared off, I think. And who was the last to see him?"

"Cassius." Rose took a moment before she realised what the Doctor was implying. "You think he's involved?"

"Might be."

Rose went over and sat next to him where he was leaning on the table on the centre of the room. "You really think that Cassius did something to him? Or scared him off? Or…"

"Rose, they may be actors, but I don't think they're murders." He looked at her, brow still furrowed. "There's something not right about it, though."

They were both silent for a moment. What could be going on behind the curtain?

"I think it's best if we get this show on and get out of here, as soon as we can. And I think –" He paused, voice dropping to a whisper. "Did you hear that?"

Rose saw he was listening intently. "What?" she whispered back.

"Someone opened the door. They're talking to someone…they're coming…"

Rose's mind raced. In a flash, she had grabbed her death gown off the rack and was holding it up to her. "It's, um, cut straight, yeah?" she babbled. The Doctor gave her a confused look, which cleared into a grin when she started talking.

As she faltered, he nodded. "Yeah. The fabric's heavy enough to drape well on the bed…and the white will show up the fake blood…"

Rose breathed in relief. He understood exactly what she was doing, and had caught on. The door opened as Rose responded, "Yeah, that'll look great…"

It was Cassius' assistant from before – a young woman with light green hair. "You alright in here? Need anything?" She smiled professionally, almost clinically at them both as Rose lay the dress down on the table.

It was the Doctor who answered her, friendly and innocent grin in place. "Nah, we're fine, thanks." He nodded at the girl, who hesitated a moment before nodding, and leaving, closing the door softly behind her. As she did so, the Doctor followed her path and put his head against the door. "So, Rose, what's that one for? Is it the death gown?"

"Yeah…" Rose was quietly confused at why he was continuing this charade, but after a moment he straightened up. "She's gone – the outer door is closed. That was close."

"Yeah. I didn't know I could think that fast. I think I might put one on. That way, it looks like we're doing what we said." And she also got to feel beautiful in one of her dresses and show off a little. Why not? An opportunity missed was an opportunity wasted, was it not?

"Yeah…" the Doctor said absentmindedly. He was now lying on the table, thought and concern etched on his face. Rose rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

Rose bit her lip, grinning, as she turned. "I did nothing of the sort."

"You did. I know you, Rose Tyler."

Rolling her eye at him again, just to be irritating, Rose went behind the same screen she had used with Marie and changed into the Capulet Ball gown. She took a moment to admire her reflection in the nearest mirror, and for a moment, just a moment; the girl who stared back wasn't her, but Juliet. Maybe this play would work after all.

She emerged from behind the screen, approaching the table as the Doctor sat up and looked at her, eyebrows raised. With his hand, he indicated for her to turn, nodding in approval as she came back to face him. "Not bad. It's quite nice, actually."

"Thanks." She leant next to him, as more serious thoughts made themselves known in her mind. "What should we do?"

"About Xander?"

"Yeah. And everything else. You've said from the start you thought something was up."

He smiled at her. "We do the only thing we can – pretend nothing's up, provoke no suspicion, and keep a cautious eye out."

They were both silent for a moment. This time, Rose heard the outer door before the Doctor did. She pulled him of the table and placed her lips on his as the inner door opened.

He was surprised, but almost immediately relaxed in her embrace. She pulled away, saying the first thing that came into her mind. _"Then have my lips the sin that they have took."_

Once again, the Doctor's sharp mind caught on, as he began to reply in Romeo's next line, then stared as he saw Cassius by the door.

"_Sin from my_ – oh, Cassius! I didn't see you! God, fright of my life." As he said it, he winked at Rose, but Cassius didn't see.

"You are both alright? Feeling a little more rested? Yet still rehearsing. Dedication."

"Yeah, just at our own pace."

Cassius smiled at the two of them, arms still around each other. "That the Capulet Ball gown, Juliet? Lovely. It suits you."

Rose stammered a thank you as he left. She took her hands off the Doctor's arms and said timidly, "Sorry. I saw it in the movies."

"Hollywood's oldest trick."

He was smiling at her; oblivious to the whirlwind that was her mind. Hopefully he wouldn't mention it – she felt a bit embarrassed, yet elated. She had to tell him – but there was never an appropriate moment; and she was afraid of what effect it would have on the strong friendship between her and her best friend.

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One more, my dear readers, one more! I'm so Doctor Who-ed out! It's almost 1 am here, and I've just finished watching _Girl in the Fireplace, Rise of the Cybermen _and_ Age of Steel_. FUN! Now, review, my pretties…


	12. Act 12

Okay, better clear this up – the note on the end of the last chapter, (one more, my readers, one more) wasn't _actually_ referencing that this was the final chapter of my story – I was meaning that the chapter (chapter 11) was one more – as in, another chapter. There is still more to go, don't you worry.

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"Where is this going, Sir?"

"Stage left – Marie! Did you fix those hems like I asked? And for Shakespeare's sake, where the hell are the repainted statues?" Cassius threw his hands up in exasperation, hurrying over to a group who were moving set.

Rose watched him go. She was sitting with her wedding dress costume over her knees, stitching a dark reed ribbon around its hem, on Cassius' orders. He had said that he wanted a bit of colour to it – so two ribbons, one at the base hem and one at the top edge, were the answer.

Next to her, Marie was making a last minute completion to the hem of Lady Montague's dress from where the actress had slipped and torn it. She seemed completely calm, in strong contrast to Cassius. With pins in her mouth, she was deftly stitching the edge, no worry or stress evident in her movements. Rose envied her.

The performance was tomorrow night. The days had slipped by; full of rehearsals and back stage preparations. Everyday was tiring, and Rose looked forward to falling into the familiar comfort of her TARDIS bed. She had had her lines hammered into her through the recordings and the rehearsals that she felt like she could be doing it in her sleep.

The rehearsals of the past few days had also introduced her to the new Paris. He had fire orange hair, and was almost the complete opposite to Xander. Rose thought she had seen him before, working at the rehearsals, but couldn't be sure. He was arrogant, rude and held none of Xander's passion for acting. Someone had obviously told him he was good, because he knew it and made sure everyone else knew it too. Rose had come close to slapping him a few times, as he made insulting remarks about the rest of the cast.

Xander had been the main topic of conversation between the Doctor and Rose for the past few days. Rose was worried about him. If Cassius' story was right, then surely he would have sent a message, or come to see them? There was nothing to stop him from doing that, and when she had said this to the Doctor one night after rehearsal, he had agreed.

The TARDIS was the only place they could talk about Xander and share their suspicions openly. If something was going on, then giving any indication of suspicion wouldn't be clever at all. It was logical, so both the Doctor and Rose found themselves acting everyday anyway – but not only on the stage.

Rose finished the stitching of the lower ribbon. She still had to do the top one. After mentioning to Marie that she knew how to stitch, Marie had immediately given her job of the alterations to Rose's own costumes. It wasn't exactly mentally stimulating or anything, but it made Rose feel she was doing her bit behind the scenes.

The Doctor, having displayed both interest and knowledge technically, was helping with the lighting. His sonic screwdriver was proving to be a very effective tool, much to the delight and intrigue of the other technical workers. He was, at current, lying on the rigging, suspended high above the theatre, completing wiring connections.

Rose turned her torso, reaching behind herself to find more thread, the dress still draped across her crossed legs. As she did so, she heard a slight _thud_ and felt a weight hit her legs, the impact softened by the material of the dress.

Grinning as she looked up, Rose held up the sonic screwdriver. "This yours?"

"Um, yeah…" The Doctor was grinning above her. "Could you, you know, bring it up to me? I'm not exactly in a position to easily get it myself."

Carefully putting her dress to side where it would be out of danger, Rose stood. "How do I get up to you?"

"Backstage, there's a thin metal staircase. Climb to the top, you'll be on one of the catwalks. You should be able to hand it to me from there." Still lying across the rigging, he put his hands beneath his chin. "I'm not going anywhere."

Rose bypassed the many workers of the theatre, heading out to the darkened backstage. She could hear voices, and sank back into the shadows in case it wasn't friendly.

"Cassius wants the blue gel, I told you that. Have you got one?"

"Blue light? I suppose – I still think natural would look better. Yeah, I've got one."

Two arguing people walked past Rose in the shadows, a young man and a woman. The woman was holding a bunch of wires, and the man held a bulky black metal box – a light. These must be other technical people. When the two of them were gone, Rose headed the way they had appeared from.

After a little searching, slowly getting deeper and deeper into backstage, Rose discovered a steep metal staircase – so steep she would have called it a ladder, but that didn't matter.

Putting the sonic screwdriver in the pocket of her jeans, Rose began to climb; thanking herself she wasn't afraid of heights. The theatre's catwalks were so high they couldn't be seen in the darkness and shadows of the roof. The rigging was positioned underneath.

Reaching the top of the stair/ladder, Rose stepped gingerly onto the catwalk. It didn't swing or creak, like the movies, simply held strong beneath her. Rose started to walk along, pausing to look beneath her and the buzzing crowd. It was a different world up here, watching from above.

"Great view, isn't it?" Said a familiar voice, breaking into her thoughts. "But could you hurry it up a little? After this I can take a break. I don't lie on metal frames high up as a hobby."

"Whatever," said Rose, walking further along and dropping down on the catwalk next to where the Doctor was. She stretched her arm, with the screwdriver, out towards him and slipped it into his hand. She watched as he flicked it on, secured the connection his other hand was holding, and smiled at his work.

She couldn't help but grin as she watched him put the sonic screwdriver in his mouth and slowly begin to move, spider-like, across the metal framing of the rigging. Rose put out a hand to help him onto the catwalk, and he took it, pulling himself up next to her and avoiding the bars that created railings for safety.

Avoiding the lights, Rose swung her legs over the catwalk edge. As she leant on the lower railing, head on hands, she felt like it was a chance to observe the thespian world anew. From up here, she could see everything.

Below, people were scurrying and spread around the theatre. Not only the acting cast, but a few newcomers from the past few days, back stage workers too were immersed in their work. Sets were being constructed and decorated, Marie was still deftly threading costume repairs, a few people (Rose squinted, she was pretty sure it was Tybalt and Mercutio) were rehearsing on the upper levels of seating.

And in the middle of everything, praising some and yelling at others, tearing around like a mad thing possessed, was Cassius. She watched, the Doctor next to her, as he supervised the moving of an ornate angel statue that was part of the set.

"It can't be centred!" He was saying to the helpers who were moving it. "If it's centred it creates too much attention! It has to be off to one side, so it may grace the head of Juliet's tomb when we come to the scene!"

"He thinks he the number one, doesn't he?" said the Doctor next to her. He was watching Cassius with amusement in his eyes.

"Well, he _is_ the director."

"Well, yeah."

There was a loud _thud_ as the angel moved. A exclamation form Cassius accompanied is, as well as, "Don't you dare break that!"

When he was satisfied, Cassius took a sweeping glance around the theatre. "We are ready, my players – costumes on, report for make up, too! We begin in

thirty minutes!"

A flurry of movement accompanied his words and the Doctor sighed. "We had better get down there then."

"Yeah. I really don't want to. Up here, it's like…it's like a different world, you know?"

"Yeah." He leaned forward on the rail in a mimic of Rose. "A chance to watch without being watched, yes?"

"Mmm, yeah." She sighed and stood. "Come on. Cassius will have our heads if we're not ready to go."

The two of them made their way back to the ladder, the Doctor climbing down before Rose. They made their way towards the costume room, weaving in and out of hurrying actors. Once inside, Rose was hurried away by Marie, who had her Capulet Ball gown with her, with a wave and a smile, the Doctor vanished into the crowd of people in the room. Rose knew she wouldn't see him until they were onstage.

She felt like some sort of star. As soon as she was dressed, Marie guided her over to a pink-haired woman who cooed over Rose's hair before attacking it with hairpins and spray. Soon it was in an elegant bun on top of her head, and she was lead to another woman, who gave her foundation, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, eye shadow…

Twenty minutes later, feeling relieved that everyone had left her alone, Rose stood backstage as the prologue recited itself. She hadn't seen the Doctor at all, and he made his entrance to the play before her anyway.

She closed her eyes to the argument going on between Tybalt and Benvolio, leaning on the wall but being careful not to mess up her hair. She wanted to rub her face, bring out some inner energy to go through this yet again, but couldn't screw up her make up. Damn. So she did a few breathing exercises instead. They didn't really help.

By the time it was time for her scene, Rose had been watching the Doctor dreamily from the wings. He suited the theatre – make up and costume just accentuated how good looking he was.

When she stepped onto the stage this time, it was the strangest feeling. Like there were two people inside her – Juliet, who was talking to her mother and the Nurse, and Rose, who was watching through Juliet's eyes as it happened. This feeling allowed her to relax in the role.

It began to speed past. Soon, she was irritatingly pulling herself from the Doctor's kiss in the Capulet Ball, and walking up the stairs for the balcony scene. The two incidents concerning three words hadn't been mentioned since they happened. Every time the balcony scene was performed, Rose subconsciously waited to see if it would happen again, but it didn't. She had only done it one, when they had rehearsed Romeo's final monologue before Xander vanished.

Sooner than it seemed, Rose was sitting numbly next to Romeo's dead body, kissing him for the last time looking for remnants of poison on his lips. She pretended to stab herself (she loved the knife she used – the blade slipped silently and smoothly into the handle) and fell onto the bed, her hand on Romeo's chest.

She felt like she could sleep here. She was tired from working and rehearsing, and worry about the next day was weighing on her mind. What if it didn't work? What if the Duke didn't like her acting, and they couldn't leave?

As the final scene continued, Rose heard a whisper, so low only she could hear it.

"Don't worry."

"I'm not." She murmured quietly back, not opening her eyes.

"You are. I can tell when you worry. You get a worry crease between your eyes. You'll be fine."

She smiled, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. His eyes were only half opened, masking them from the audience (and mainly from Cassius). She gave him a half smile, which he returned. If he thought she could do it, then maybe she could.

Tomorrow night, the time when everything would flop or fly, was coming closer.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The acting thing of Rose's I describe, where it's like she's watching out the eyes of her character, is something I do. Don't ask me how, I just do – I can have perfectly conscious thoughts on a different topic and not screw up my script. It almost like it's automatic…it's weird, but there you go.


	13. Act 13

Have another chapter, dear readers! At the moment, I'm finding nothing more enjoyable than writing, so updates are thick and fast – at least, they are for me!

oooooooooooooooooooooo

The next morning, Rose pulled on some clothes and stumbled into the console room, feeling worse for wear. She hadn't slept well at all – dreams of actors and masked demons had plagued her, as well as dreams of falling off the stage, forgetting her lines…anything that could go wrong had gone wrong in her mind.

"You're up earlier than I expected," said the Doctor from the console. He was fiddling with something, Lord knows what, and looked up as she made a indistinguishable noise in reply.

"Rose? Are you alright?" said the Doctor as she leant on the railing with her eyes closed.

"Yeah. Didn't sleep well, that's all."

"Really?" there was concern in his voice.

She opened her eyes to smile weakly at him. "Just, um, dreams of things going wrong. Stupid stuff like that. It's nothing."

"Aw, Rose, you shouldn't worry so much," said the Doctor, pulling her into a hug. "You'll be great, I'll be great, we'll be gone by tonight."

Rose found comfort in his confidence in her, and the fact that they'd be out of this weird place by tonight. She only hoped that it would be that easy, that nothing would detain them further.

"Come on, let's get to the theatre. We're only doing one run through today, before tonight. You are going to relax after that run through, Rose Tyler."

Rose groaned on response to his words. "Another one? I'm sick of it."

"It's only one."

As he locked the TARDIS door behind them, Rose supposed he was right. It was only one more. But one more of that arrogant Paris, and she might loose it. He grated on her nerves every time they performed. It made Rose miss Xander even more.

All the preparations to the theatre had been made in the last few days – aside from one or two backstage helpers coiling strings of ivy around the pillars, the stage, and theatre itself was completely ready for the big night. Rose had to admit that it looked beautiful, completely changed since the first time she had seen it.

The stage itself had been re-varnished; and the wooden boards were clean and shiny. From the front, framed by the pillars (on which the ivy climbed), the stage had a professional feel, very majestic and, of course, theatrical. Every surface, from the pillars to the balcony, had been carefully cleaned and, if it was needed, repaired. On the stage itself there was an angel statue off to one side, and Juliet's bed/tomb was near the back, out of the way until it would be needed. Another stature, smaller than the angel and of a fairy-like creature, was at the front edge of the stage on the right side.

The simplicity of the set was impressive – not at all what Rose had expected. It was because, the Doctor explained, the stage had to be so many different locations – the church, the Capulet manor, the tomb, Mantua, and streets of Verona. By only giving the stage certain pieces that could appear in a number of places, like the statues, allowed the stage to become them all, and not break any illusion the play set up for the audience.

As she stood watching the stage, Rose realised how quiet it was. There was no one else around (the back stagers had vanished as soon as their task was done).

"Are we the first here?" Rose asked the Doctor, who was standing silent beside her.

"Must be. You would think on a day like today – I mean, we _are_ performing tonight – that this place would have been buzzing since the early hours. But here we stand, not another soul in sight."

Rose nodded, but just as he finished speaking, there was the sound of the door opening and a surprised exclamation from behind them. There was no need to turn; as both the Doctor and Rose knew the voice. The same voice which had been yelling and stressing over the past few days, telling actors to do it properly, or be careful when moving a statue.

"Good morning, Cassius," they said in unison, turning to their director.

"And to you. I expected to be the first one here."

"Well, we didn't expect to be!" Rose smiled in return.

"It's good you're here. The Duke wants to meet the cast."

There was a moment of silence before the Doctor answered. "He does?"

Cassius ran a hand through his green hair. "Yes, yes. At the Quill, in thirty minutes. I can only hope the rest of the cast come in that time so they all know…" he sighed again, putting down the random costumes and papers in his arms down on a seat nearby. "Performance time already! It comes around so fast."

He sat next to the pile of things, busying himself with the things he had brought. Behind his back, the Doctor shrugged at Rose, mouthing 'directors!'.

Soon enough, thought not before Cassius had muttered about how his players were not dedicated to the theatre enough to arrive on time, the rest of the cast had meandered their way into the theatre and were waiting to leave for the Quill; for as each of them appeared they were told what was going on and about the meeting.

Finally they were all gathered (Paris had arrived latest, of course, swaggering in with an arrogant grin on his face. Rose wanted to punch him right in that smug grin.). Cassius led the way back to the Quill, seemingly just as nervous as the cast and crew.

The Quill was deserted – far from the warm and bright atmosphere it had had the last time Rose was here. It seemed incredibly foreboding. There was a shaft of light from an inner room – Cassius said in a harsh whisper that that was where the Duke awaited them.

He set about organising his cast. The Duke wanted to meet them all, in order of importance – in other words, how many lines they had. The Chorus went first, then the more minor speaking roles, the Lord and Lady of the families…right through to Romeo and Juliet themselves. After that, the backstage crew would go through.

As soon as the door closed, nothing could be heard. Each group came out looking nervous but relieved it was over, and headed back to the theatre to relax before the rehearsal. Every time more people entered the presence of the Duke, Rose felt sicker. What would he be like? A tyrant? Would he laugh at their plight, or promise to watch with their need to leave in mind?

The door opened. Friar Laurence, Mercutio and the Nurse came out, smiling with relief at the Doctor and Rose. Rose took a shaky breath as they passed on the way out the door. It was obviously more noticeable that she thought, because she felt the Doctor's hand slide into hers, entwining their fingers.

"For the last time, don't worry. Just relax."

Together, always together, they walked through to meet the Duke.

He was sitting at the opposite end of the room to the door. Rose was strongly reminded of a medieval Japanese warlord of some kind – the sort apparent on weavings and in ancient sketches. He sat, straight backed and impassive faced on a raised dais, and deep red quilted robes spread around him in impressive spread. Black ravens flew across the edge, in exquisite brocade.

"Do I have the pleasure of addressing Romeo and Juliet?" His voice was low and authoritative. A man of power.

It was the Doctor, of course, who answered. "You do, highness."

"The travellers, caught behind the barrier."

"Ah, yes, highness…"

The Duke's eyes narrowed slightly. "And so you are in this production to win your freedom?"

"Yes, highness."

"I am a man of the theatre. Step forward, let me look at you."

The Doctor and Rose did so, their hands still together. The Duke scrutinised them individually, looking over them slowly, talking his time. Rose tried not to let the fear she felt show in her eyes when he looked at her. She thought there was something familiar about him, but couldn't place it at all. He still made her nervous.

After a still silence, he nodded sharply at them both. "Yes, you will do – in looks at least. But tell me, how far does this go?"

"How do you mean, highness?" Rose could hear an undertone of confusion in the Doctor's pleasant tone. She thought she might know what the Duke meant.

"How deep does it go? Girl? What is your name?"

"Rose, highness. This is the Doctor." She was surprised to find her voice steady.

"I did not ask for that, but the knowledge is welcome. You, Rose, have not spoken since you entered, so now you will answer."

"Yes, highness."

"So, tell me. As you must portray lovers, and realism is vital to good theatre, do you love him?"

Rose hesitated before answering, considering her words carefully. This wasn't the way she wanted to tell the Doctor, so how was she to answer this question? The Doctor was watching her, she could see him out the corner of her eye. She had to answer quickly. What should she say?

"Yes, highness. He is my best friend, my travelling companion and he's saved my life many times. How can I not love him?"

The Duke smiled at her – it was small, but a smile. "An apt answer. But what says the Doctor? Do you return her feelings?"

"Yes – and I say the same thing. Best friend, travelling companion, and lifesaver. How can I not love her?"

The Duke raised his eyebrows – had he been expecting something different? "I look forward to seeing your performance. If you make me weep, I guarantee your freedom. Other than that, it will take a lot of consideration. Dismissed."

Rose turned, with the Doctor, and they left the room, not pausing until they broke out into the sunshine outside. The world seemed brighter after that meeting. It took Rose a moment to realise that their hands were still together. They hadn't let go right throughout the meeting.

"I'm glad that's over." She said as they began the walk back towards the theatre.

"Yeah. Not too nice, is he? Very regal and impressive, I'll give him that, though."

"Yeah – he reminded me of one of those Japanese lords, you know?"

The Doctor considered this. "Yeah, actually, that's a good point. Did you notice something familiar abut him, though?"

"Yeah. But I think it was just because he's one of these thespians."

"Yeah, maybe…"

As soon as they stepped over the threshold of the theatre, murmurs met their ears. Those here were discussing the Duke, and what he was like. The general consensus seemed to be that it was going to be hard to impress him – but they could do it.

"Make him weep…" murmured Rose. "How will we do that?"

"By being brilliant." The Doctor answered without hesitation.

"That's not an answer! I know I tend to cry when other people are…so how do I cry?"

The Doctor laughed at that. "I have no idea. Let go. Throw yourself into it!"

Cassius arriving back interrupted them. This was followed by yet another rehearsal, not in costume this time, and by the end of it nervous excitement was thick in the air; there had been no mistakes during the final run.

Rose fell onto her bed in the TARDIS soon after – her night of broken sleep had caught up with her and a few more hours would do her good. She smiled, remembering the Doctor's reply to the Duke's question. So he did love her – not in the way she loved him, though, she would guess – but any love was better than none.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ohhh, the performance comes! Review for more, my dears!


	14. Act 14

Do you have your tickets? Thank you. Here are your seats.

Enjoy the show.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Rose was dreaming. She was alone, sitting on a stage in an empty field. Green pastures stretched out beyond her. A smudge in the sky indicated some sort of industry in the distance. She got up, walked over to the wings and found herself inside the TARDIS. Xander was there, smiling at her, but didn't speak when she talked to him. She asked him again and again where the Doctor was, but he sat silent. She ran out the door, into a forest, hearing strange cries and soon finding herself beneath a wooden balcony. The Doctor was standing on it above her, calling her name.

The dream was fading; she was coming back to reality. As she opened her eyes she found the Doctor really _was_ calling her. He was sitting next to her on the edge of her bed, one had gently on her shoulder, waking her.

"Rose?"

She murmured in response, blinking the last of the dream away as the Doctor smiled down at her. "You had better get up – it's time we were at the theatre."

She sat up, wiping her eyes. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Oh, about three, four hours. Feel better for it?"

"Definitely."

Ten minutes later, they were walking towards the theatre. Rose had butterflies in her stomach, but they were coupled by an excitement too. She felt like a little kid.

The theatre was buzzing with conversation and busy cast and crew, making sure every little thing was ready. The stress seemed to have been left behind and exhilaration and anticipation had taken its place, even for Cassius, who was beaming at everyone and involving himself in everything at once.

Rose found she was smiling too, even as she was whisked away by Marie and some of the make-up girls towards the make-up rooms. Marie had her ball gown with her already, and as Rose changed into it she realised that she felt relaxed and ready to perform. Something about the atmosphere in the theatre relaxed her and now she felt light as air with excitement.

Rose didn't know how much time everything took. All she knew was that soon her hair was being sprayed and pinned in place, and them her make up was applied and finished. According to Marie, they had about twenty more minutes and the best thing to do was relax and wait. Rose decided to take the advice, returning to her place on the small balcony staircase. It was quiet here, as the backstage area was a no talking zone, and so many were staying in the backstage and dressing rooms where the rule didn't apply.

Rose sat, head resting on her hand, and stared into the darkness beyond her. They were almost ready to begin, how strange. It didn't feel like her and the Doctor had been here for ten days, but here was the proof. She supposed that the days spent rehearsing had run into one another, and that was a reason for it.

She watched back stagers walking past – the young guy and woman of the technical crew passed a few times, carrying light bulbs and wires. Many others held the props for the play – swords, goblets, and the few things that characters brought on with them. There weren't many in _Romeo and Juliet_, so it made it easier to equip.

"I never thought I'd get left alone. What's wrong with my hair, anyway? It doesn't need hair spray, or gel or anything else."

Rose grinned as the Doctor appeared out of the shadows near her. "Why did I know I'd find you here, Rose?"

"You tell me."

He sat down on the step below her. "They finally left you alone too, then?"

"Nah, I'm hiding. I'm going to walk on with no make-up or costume and improvise the whole thing, Doctor, you know me."

"Now, now, don't get rude. I thought I was the rude one."

There was a call from the theatre itself. "Ten minutes, players! The doors are opening, our audience arriving. No one is to be front of curtain in costume before the play begins! Good luck to you all, I'll see you at interval." There was a scattering of applause as Cassius finished speaking.

The Doctor looked up at Rose. He stood, putting out his hand to help her up (sitting to standing in a ball skirt, even one as straight cut and narrow as this one, required either help or impressive skill, in Rose's opinion), and the two of them made their was side stage, peeking out of the edge of the curtain; along with half the cast.

"There's the Duke," whispered the Doctor. Sure enough, the Duke had just swept in, wearing black robes decorated in white lilies. He was seated on a great throne-like chair in the middle level of seating, directly in the middle. The best seat in the theatre.

Rose stepped back from the curtain, heading towards the mess of backstage. There was a place here, a main room where the actors waited and relaxed; a green room of sorts. It was more an area than a room, but it still suited the purpose of waiting area.

There was also a sink and bench near, as well as the props table on the opposite side, closer to the stage.

She picked her way carefully across the floor, scattered with rope and pieces of old set, as she heard the audience quieten and the prologue begin. This was it – it was really happening. Rose listened from where she was to the conversation of Gregory and Sampson, soon joined by Tybalt and others of the Capulet household.

"My cue cometh," said the Doctor, who was next to her. He looked sideways at her. "Time to be Romeo."

"Good luck." Rose whispered, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

He turned to her, smiling. "You too." Then he did something Rose wasn't prepared for. He kissed her softly on the mouth, properly – no play pretext, no Cassandra, no time vortex. It was pure choice and action on his behalf, and Rose couldn't be happier, as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, there, in the dark backstage of a alien theatre.

"What was that for?" she asked softly when they parted.

"Just what you said when we met the Duke. I've been thinking about it. And how I lied about something in my reply – you're not my best friend, travelling companion or lifesaver – you're so much _more_ than that, Rose."

She couldn't help smiling at that. "So you did mean it?"

"I take it you're referring to that rehearsal of the balcony scene. Of course I did. And you?"

"During your speech? Every word."

Rose felt like she could stay here forever, her arms around his neck, and his arms around her waist. But he was needed onstage - and if he didn't go, the they really would be here, on this planet, forever.

He slipped out of her arms and walked to the edge of the stage, walking on as his cue appeared. Rose watched him go, smiling and feeling lighter than air. This play would be simple. There was nothing better to portray love than love itself. Let the Duke witness this, then!

She watched the scene, watched her Romeo perform better than ever. A little while later, as the scene between Romeo and Benvolio drew to a close, she was waiting for him, putting her arms around him as he came off, whispering to him, "That was great!"

He nodded in reply as Paris and Lord Capulet made their way onstage. Rose realised that she didn't have much time until she herself had to walk onstage, and just as she thought about it, the Nurse appeared with lady Capulet to find her –they walked on from the other side of the stage, and had to go over their now. Rose walked away with them behind the set, and found when she got to the other side she could see the Doctor smiling at her. It was a comfort.

Half listening and half in her own world, Rose watched his next scene, shaking herself out of it, as she was about to go on. This was it – she would do it right and do it well. Her butterflies reappeared momentarily, but as she stepped onstage, she found that they had been left behind in the wings and she was fine, her words coming from her like a second nature.

The scene passed in a flash, and soon Rose was back offstage as the Doctor walked back on. Faster than Rose would have liked, the Capulet Ball arrived and she had to walk onstage and meet the arrogant Paris. At least he didn't mess up the dance. Rose pretended to find him interesting (although she still wanted to hit him) and carefully listened for Romeo. She had stopped jumping, but only by her senses forewarning her a moment before he spoke.

There was something elating about kissing the man (or alien) you loved before an audience and showing them all how happy it made you, and how good you were at acting in 'love'. Not that acting was needed.

Rose still loved doing the balcony scene with its sweet words and romantic purpose, and so, as she walked forward onto the balcony, she let a smile grace her features as she began. The scene itself went without a hitch, and Rose found it easy to tell 'Romeo' how she loved him and give him a faithful vow, seeing the same sincerity and love in his eyes which had been there all along – but now she knew there was nothing false about it.

As she got up from the floor of the balcony, where she had been bent to reach her Romeo's hand, she wished the scene could go on. But it had to end, and so she bade Romeo a good night and watched as he smiled at her, lips moving soundlessly as they had on that very first run through. There was no need to banish any disillusionment from her mind, she knew that he meant it.

For the next twenty minutes, Rose sat around doing nothing – she had two scenes to sit through before her next appearance, and so sat (after switching costumes, into her blue dress) with a smile on her face and her eyes unseeing what was around her.

There was a moment of hurried preparation after she got off stage the next time, but Marie had sorted it. She needed a quick costume change from the blue dress to her wedding one, and so she met Marie who switched them over in lightning time. She done this before, obviously and told Rose she was doing well before racing off to help with something else.

Another scene, another kiss, another chance to stand with her Romeo. After that, it was time for a break as the second act came to a close. After another costume change for Rose – this time into the evening dress, she found the Doctor and they laughed about how well it was going. Cassius appeared to congratulate everyone on their performances thus far, and to keep it up. Another few minutes of relaxation in the green room, and it was back to the stage.

Rose was heading back towards opposite side of the stage when she slipped on the floor (her slipper-like shoes didn't give much grip) and her hip hit the props table. Biting back a yelp of pain, Rose bent to pick up the bottle she had knocked off, rolling her eyes as she saw it was empty and their was a wet patch on the floor below. She filled it from the tap nearby, cursing her clumsiness. Trust her to be the one to break something. Finally getting to the wings, she watched the scene going on beyond.

This was where the story started to fall apart. The audience was receptive – gasping during the fights – the rest of the cast could hear them out the back. Mercutio's death (and his immortal line, _a plague on both your houses!_) came and Tybalt's demise followed, then Romeo's banishment. This meant it was now time for Rose's monologue. She didn't mind it, but she liked the pre-poison one better.

Two scenes later, Rose came off the stage crying from the yelling of her 'father'. Lord Capulet had been making her cry during the scene for days, and this was not different – if anything, it was more intense. She came off, straight into the Doctor's arms as Marie brought over another costume for her to change into. The Doctor gave her hand a quick squeeze, and then she was back onstage (unfortunately with Paris).

This scene gave her a fun line (_be not so long to speak I long to die!_) and afterwards there was another scene for her to do, making amends with Capulet, and then another quick change, back in the evening gown, and her final big monologue.

She hoped that she did it justice. As the words slipped from her, she remembered everything that had been said to her about it and the way Cassius had directed her. She took her time, allowed her emotions to build and the tension to rise, painted the picture for the audience watching her. Finally, it was drawing to a close, and she raided the little bottle given to her a scene or two previously by the Friar, and collapsed onto the bed. As the audience applauded, she couldn't help thinking, that it was all for her.

She got to lie on the bed for the rest of the play, most things concerning her, and other scenes cleverly stages so it seemed they were somewhere else entirely.

As she listened to them fight, Rose envied the fact that the Doctor got to 'kill' Paris. Damn him – she'd wanted to right through. She heard him fall, and had to compose herself not to smile as he did so.

As the Doctor made his way through Romeo's last monologue, complete with all beauty, emotion and tears, Rose marvelled at how fast the play had gone. He fell next to her, his hand on hers, and Rose waited for her next cue, which came from Friar Laurence. It was spoken – she woke.

When he left to investigate a 'noise', Rose turned to look at the figure beside her. Her heart leapt as she did so, for he really looked dead. Unmoving, his features impassive, she could really trick himself into thinking it – and, amazingly, she began to cry. Part of her was numb, the other part was joyous that she had managed to pull it off.

As she reached for the bottle, she noticed that it was the one she had knocked off the props table. What a coincidence. Hopefully no one had noticed the small chip on the edge that hadn't been there before. She kissed him softly, before hearing the noise of the watch – her death was upon her.

Rose snatched up Romeo's dagger, ready to 'strike' herself with it. Cassius' words from a few days ago were in her head: 'Do it hard and fast so it looks real! Make the audience believe!' Glancing sadly back at her 'dead' Romeo one last time, she did as she had been instructed.

And gasped in horror and pain as the sharp blade slid into her.

Blood, warm and deep red, was starting to flow down her dress. She fell back onto the bed, crying weakly for help.

"Doctor…help…it's _real_…"

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yeah, I know quite a few people worked that out. But oh well – hope it was good anyway!


	15. Act 15

Here we go, my dear reviewers. On with the show.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Doctor…help…it's _real_…"

He heard her fall next to him as she whispered those words. Something wasn't right – there was real fear in her voice, real pleading. He opened his eyes instantly, talking in his companion before him in a flash.

She was lying next to him, hand resting lightly on her body – around the blade of the dagger, impaled in her lower chest, just above her abdomen. Tears were running down her pale face and her breath was uneven and drawn. Blood was quickly spreading across the white of the gown.

He sat up (ignoring a gasp from the audience – screw the play), putting his arms around her. She closed her eyes, gasping in pain, as he gently lifted her to a sitting position. As he did so, an audience member in the front row saw the knife, saw the danger and reality the play had escalated into, and raised the alarm.

The Doctor was dimly aware of people (and most, then all of the audience – news travelled quickly) leaving the theatre in panic, raising the alarm. He had to get Rose back to the TARDIS – to the infirmary – he had to help her. She was shaking in his arms – either the blood loss was getting to her, or there was something else on that blade.

Picking her up in his arms, the Doctor ran off the stage. Lucky the TARDIS was as close as it was. Navigating the back stage in record time, he bolted out a back door of the theatre, trying not to bump her too much. Rose had grown limper in his arms as he crossed the threshold of the TARDIS (who had opened her doors with a push, even though he was sure he left them locked), and he hurried down the corridors to the infirmary.

He put her down on an empty bed; half noticing that he had her blood on his shirt. She was only half conscious as he took a bit of her blood and ran it through a scanner nearby. It can't have taken a minute, but to him it felt like forever. The scanner beeped, showing results. According to the scan there was Corilleum in her blood – a fast acting and lethal poison. It had to have come off the blade – which meant one thing…

This was no accident, this was murder.

Or attempted murder at least. Nightleaf was the antidote, and as he fixed a small drip of it to a needle (which he then slid gently into the back of Rose's hand, trying to ignore the whimper she gave), he decided it would be wise to give himself a jab of it too. So he sat and pushed a small hypodermic, filled with the pale liquid, into his forearm. He might have been slipped some too – he felt fine, but one could never be too safe.

Now, onto a more important matter. The dagger had to removed – it wasn't in far, thank the vortex, but enough to cause considerable pain and leave a scar. The Doctor quickly affixed a painkilling serum to the drip on her hand, and then put his own hands on Rose's shoulders.

"Rose?"

Her eyes fluttered in response, then opened, looking up at him in pain and fear.

"Rose, I have to pull the blade out. You've got a painkiller, but you'll still feel it, okay?"

She nodded, silent, eyes closing again. The Doctor hesitated before placing one hand on Rose's lower chest by the blade, the other hand on the hilt of the dagger. He had to do it quickly – failure to do so would put Rose through absolute Hell; pulling it out one bit at a time. He gripped the blade and pulled it in one motion – it came free, and as it did so Rose cried out in pain, the sound echoing around the room and chilling the Doctor to the bone.

He dropped the dagger on a nearby table, placing a clean cloth over the wound as blood welled from it, then reached for surgical scissors that were nearby. He clipped away the dress material from around the wound, and after cleaning it, deftly stitched it to hold it together. As the final need, he fixed a square bandage over it.

Rose had remained quiet throughout the procedure. The drugs had given her a numb sensation, and she was feeling tired and weak. She couldn't understand why this had happened…why her?

The Doctor watched her as she began to loose consciousness. He moved up to her head, putting his hand on her face and gently kissing her pale forehead. "After all we've been through, after all we've seen – I am not letting you die."

She murmured in response, taking comfort in the warmth of her hand. As her eyes closed, anger clouded the Doctor's face. This had been intentional. He was going to find out why – and who. And he wasn't going to stop until he got answers.

He hadn't been gone ten minutes from the theatre – was there any better place to start? But he couldn't leave Rose…he had to keep her close. So, bring her to the theatre, then. All it took was a few coordinate changes. Let the actors experience this.

He stepped out of the TARDIS onto the stage. Most of the actors still around were staring open mouthed at him because of the TARDIS' materialisation. Many shrank away from him – he knew his anger was obvious.

"Who's in charge here?"

"That would be me, Doctor. And I must say, a play unfinished is no play at all."

The Doctor turned to slowly face the Duke where he stood in the audience pit, black robes around him like water. "You, of course," said the Doctor as he leapt lightly off the stage to face him. "I've got something for you." And he walked straight up to him and punched him in the jaw.

The Duke staggered as the Doctor stood above him. When the Duke looked back up, the Doctor realised that one eye was a different colour. Sure enough, he bent down and picked up a small piece of gel from the ground. A coloured contact lens.

"Who are you? I mean really – behind the contacts and the clothes and the make up. _Who are you?_"

The Duke gave a twisted smile. He lifted a hand to his face, removing the other contact lens, and pulling away the wig he was wearing. He clicked his fingers, and an assistant passed a cloth, which he wiped over his face, removing the make up. In the end, standing before the Doctor in the black robes was Antonio.

"You? I suppose that makes sense – I haven't seen you for days. I thought you had more intelligence than this. I was wrong."

Antonio glared at him. "It takes great skill to organise this kind of performance."

"Oh yes," the Doctor replied sarcastically, eyes narrowed. "The sort that murders its lead actors."

"Of course. One can only act death properly by dying."

The Doctor shook his head at Antonio's reply. "Who are you? All of you?"

"We are a group dedicated to theatre, and it's realism. Death included."

"Heightened dedication and murders. Sounds like you're a cult."

Antonio thought for a moment. "One could say that, I suppose."

"And so you drag people down to this planet to fill your bloodthirsty acting troupe? Poor travellers, who believe the story of the Duke and the barrier, and who agree to be in these performances. You kill them in the final production. Their deaths are no matter – they're strangers. You tell anyone who asks, who doesn't know, that they left. The deaths mean there is no crime because no one reports anything. And there is no barrier, is there?"

"No, I'm afraid not." He was smiling again, that twisted smile.

"So what about those who try their luck against the lie and leave?" the Doctor asked quietly. There must have been some. Even he had considered it, but didn't want to risk the TARDIS – not to mention his and Roses' lives.

"They are fools, Doctor. We do not want fools in our play."

The Doctor couldn't believe he was hearing this. "Speaking of not wanting people in plays; what have you done with Xander?"

"Oh yes – Paris – he was getting a little too friendly and close to you and the girl. We had to deal with him."

That wasn't the answer the Doctor wanted. "Where is he?"

Antonio swept a hand around the theatre. "He's right here." His words brought an evil laughter from the watching actors. Everyone knew, obviously.

"What?" the Doctor asked quietly. What did Antonio mean?

"Xander has been watching over you like the angel he is, Doctor. He's been here all the time."

"Angel?" Then, suddenly, realisation clicked and the Doctor paled. "Angel. The statue." And he turned to look at the statue itself, standing at the head of the bed onstage. It occurred to him now how sad it looked, and he recalled Cassius as he directed the helpers on where to position it. "Don't you dare break that!"

Antonio smiled cruelly at him. "Smoothed and painted plaster over a corpse. It's a masterpiece, it really is."

"It's sick and twisted." The Doctor retorted.

"We're thespians, Doctor. What else do you expect?"

The Doctor didn't have a reply for that. He just stood, anger burning through him, and stared at Antonio. Antonio smiled back at him, on home ground.

"Xander was an unforeseen complication. Still, those who indulge in this art are numerous, and so a replacement of a more…_serious_ nature was needed. Still I must thank you, Doctor."

The Doctor's eyes narrowed at this. Thank him? What for?

"We have been wanting to do _Romeo and Juliet_ for so long – have we not?" There was a cry of agreement for the watching actors. "But have had no opportunity to do so. The travellers must fit the play, not the other way around. And you fit perfectly."

The Doctor didn't know what he could say. These were some of the most sadistic and ruthless people he had come across, and he couldn't get over the simplicity of their belief. There was nothing complex, no mind control or deep reason for their actions – just their own desire for perfect theatre.

"What are you?" he asked in a soft voice, low and dangerous. "Killing innocent travellers for sport – for theatre! If she dies, I swear, I will kill you all."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shorter, yes, sorry about that! Next chapter on the way – will Rose live?


	16. Act 16

I owe a few author notes. Firstly, I didn't mention at the end of last chapter but should of, that this is the last chapter of this story.

So thank you to all my readers, and all those who reviewed it. Two hundred reviews! I can't believe that you took so much time to review, and that this story was so well received. It's an honour, it really is.

Also, to those who are fellow thespians such as myself, a reviewer pointed out that I had given us a bad name. I guess it's true, so sorry if it offended or anything. We are a dying breed – well, actors aren't, but thespians are, in my opinion.

I hope everyone had a good new year. I spent the night having a Who marathon (season two) with some mates. The Doctor (and Tenth, no less!) mates and some alcohol – brilliant!

Oh, and something else, not important but anyway. I was watching the audio commentary of _New Earth_ earlier today, and those doing it, including James Hawes, the director, did say that the kiss between the Doctor and Rose (even though it was technically Cassandra) was meant to look like that they were _both_ enjoying it. So, to all my fellow 10Rose fans – WE _WERE_ RIGHT! Even the production staff indicated it. So **HA** to all those out there who deny it. Long live 10Rose!

ooooooooooooooooo

Rose slowly opened her eyes. What had happened? She had been onstage, the play…the dagger…she vaguely remembered being in the Doctor's arms. He had taken her somewhere, hadn't he?

As memory surfaced, Rose sat bolt upright, a hand flying to her lower chest as she winced in pain. There was gauze beneath her fingertips. A bandage? She looked down at the white square for a moment, before looking at her surroundings.

The TARDIS infirmary. Empty, apart from her, but it was definitely the TARDIS. Safe and comfortable. But where was the Doctor? She felt he should be here; as it must have been him who patched her up.

Rose brushed some hair away from her face, noticing for the fist time the needle embedded in the back of her hand. With her eyes she followed the tube to a small empty bag, no, wait, two of them – whatever had been in them was in her now – and so, biting her lip, she pulled the needle out and decided to go looking for the Doctor.

She cautiously swung herself off the bed, gasping in pain as she stood. It passed quickly – the Doctor had said he had given her a painkiller, hadn't he? – and she slowly staggered over to the door. As she did so, she caught sight of herself in a mirror.

She looked terrible, pale and blearily eyed. Her gown had been cut away around the wound, and most of the bloodstain with it, but there were still deep red markings visible against the white. How much blood had she lost?

She kept going, pulling the door open and walking unevenly down the corridor beyond, using the wall for support. A small voice told her this shouldn't really be possible so soon after a stab wound, but another voice shushed it with two words: 'alien medicine'.

The console room was empty, but the door was ajar. Rose could hear a voice beyond, angry, but soft. Two guesses who that could be. She made her slow way over to it, trying to make out the words.

"What are you? Killing innocent travellers for sport – for theatre! If she dies, I swear, I will kill you all." His voice was dangerously low and calm. Never a good sign.

Rose pulled open the door. The TARDIS had moved, and it was now inside the theatre. She walked onto the stage, and could see the Doctor and Antonio arguing below on the ground. Antonio – he was the Duke? Some how, it made perfect sense.

"You kill people – travellers – for _art_." The Doctor was saying. "Why don't you kill yourselves?"

"Because then _we_ would be dead," Antonio replied smugly. His features were twisted into a cruel smile, as he obviously thought he had the upper hand. As he finished speaking, his eyes flicked up over the Doctor's shoulder to the stage. "And I see she isn't dead, then. A pity."

The Doctor turned, all anger vanishing as he saw her. "Rose…" He swung himself up onstage and put an arm around her, careful not to hurt her. "You shouldn't be up…"

"I'm fine…" Rose could feel cold fury lending her strength and she glared at Antonio. "What the hell do you mean 'a pity'? You tried to _kill_ me. Whatever happened to bloody morals?"

"Morals?" Antonio laughed. "These _are_ our morals!"

Rose could feel the Doctor tensing as she leaned against him. "You drag people down, offer them help and support, and them watch as they bleed to death before you, pleading for help. How twisted. How can you do that?" She was almost crying.

Antonio smiled at her as he swept a hand around, indicating the watching players. "Easily, I find. Don't we all?" There was ringing laughter and Antonio looked at the Doctor, indicating Rose. "She'll die anyway, Doctor, there was poison on the blade as insurance."

Rose glanced worriedly at the Doctor, who was still glaring at Antonio. "Cured."

Antonio raised an eyebrow. "Really? Impressive. Although _your_ living is still somewhat of a mystery."

The Doctor shrugged. "I'm not poison resistant, if that's what you're asking."

"That was me," said Rose. Antonio turned to look at her, as did the Doctor, surprise in his eyes. "It was a lucky chance – I knocked over Romeo's poison bottle during the interval of the performance, and refilled it – with water."

The Doctor slowly turned this harsh gaze back on Antonio. "So what was originally inside?"

"Oh, some aspirin – my thanks for telling us about that – and a lethal poison."

"Then it's probably good I gave myself an antidote shot. But it's not like it would've worked anyway. You know, Antonio, that day at the Quill, when you said I was so strange that if I said I wasn't human you'd probably believe me? You were closer to the truth than you thought."

Antonio's smile faltered a little.

"You want to know what I am? I'm a Time Lord."

Antonio visibly paled as a murmur ran around the theatre. "You survived the war?"

"Heard of me, then? And I didn't just survive the war – I _ended_ the war!"

Antonio had now gone white, and the other players were no longer smiling.

Rose glanced at the Doctor, who she was still leaning against, and saw fury and power sparking in his eyes. Something to behold, the Oncoming Storm…

"Didn't guess that much, did we? I wouldn't have died anyway, I would have regenerated. Then I would have come after you."

"Doctor, have you found out where Xander is?" she asked quietly, turning his gaze from Antonio to her. "What happened to him?"

"Oh, Rose," the Doctor said in a slightly strained voice. "He's the angel statue. It's his body, covered in plaster."

Rose felt sick to hear that. The beautiful angel, which she had admired – was Xander's dead body. How could someone do that, disrespect the dead so much?

"How could you?" she hissed at Antonio, who shrugged, his twisted, cruel smiled back on his face.

"He was in danger of warning you; and we couldn't have that, now could we? It would have spoiled everything!"

"So, just remind me. This plan of yours. You drag us down here, help us, warn us about the 'Duke'. We come, blind and willing, to act in your production. After days of rehearsal, you kill us both in the final production. It's murder – but the public, not part of the cult, is none the wiser – after all, the strangers just left, didn't they? There is no one who will report anything, because those who know are in on it. And this is all done for your own satisfaction? There is no superpower, no conspiracy, just a group of twisted actors who kill strangers for their own theatre." He sounded horrified, disgusted, and it also showed on his face and in his eyes.

Antonio, on the other hand, was smiling widely. "That's about it."

"But we disrupted that. What will you do now? The your public are aware that something real happened tonight."

"Oh, just an accident."

The Doctor walked forward to the edge of the stage, slowly, making sure Rose was alright alone. At the edge he stopped, looking down at Antonio, then around at the watching actors spread around the stage and theatre itself.

"So how far do you extend? This whole planet? Nah, otherwise why would you be so secretive? This town? Possible, but still the secrecy. Or – this theatre, this _room_. A small group, easy to keep track of. It's not so easy to find people willing to be involved in murder, or witness one." He had paced the stage's edge while he talked, and was now standing opposite Antonio again.

"You're right again, Doctor. Not all those involved are like us; as dedicated to theatre as us. All the cast, some of the backstage. Those who don't act work outback and organise things offstage. Those who are not of our talent do not have any knowledge of what they are part of."

Rose looked around at the watchers. All the people they had worked with. She couldn't see Marie, prayed she wasn't involved, but recognised the woman who had worked on the lighting along with the Doctor. She was watching with the same cruel, hateful smile as the others.

"But _surely_ someone's noticed. Vanishing strangers, and what about Xander? Killing a citizen. This must be illegal, after all." The Doctor was now sitting on the edge of the stage like an impatient child, watching Antonio, waiting for an answer.

"There have been…_accidents_," Antonio started, as there was a rumble of laughter. "Some public were too nosey and tragically fell off scaffolding. One fell onto a real sword. We have become more careful."

"And now?"

"We will act it away like before."

There was a noise from the theatre foyer. A voice. Antonio looked startled as he heard, glancing between the foyer door and the Doctor as he jumped lightly down off the stage and started to wander around the floor..

"Someone's noticed, you know. Picked up that something was wrong. And when you're present at a stabbing, do you know what a normal person would do? They'd call the authorities."

Antonio started, and the Doctor grabbed a sword of a nearby actor, so quick the actor could only hiss at him. He swung it around until the tip was facing Antonio. "Want to see how much damage a prop sword can really do? Oh, and by the way, in, say, a play, the authorities would have got here quickly, but stopped to listen to the confrontation going on within. And, in a play, the villain would have revealed everything because he thinks he going to kill the two heroes. And, in a play, the villain's confidence would be his downfall. Good thing that _Romeo and Juliet_ isn't technically over and you're still in a play, then, isn't it?"

Antonio had paled now, as the Doctor moved the tip of the sword even closer to him. Swinging it slightly, Antonio flinched as the blade drew along under his eye. He could feel blood as the Doctor brought the sword away and looked at his handiwork.

"You're weeping. We win. That was the deal."

Rose looked over as uniformed people filled the door from the foyer. They were armed with guns, and commanded all the actors into the centre of the room. The Doctor threw the sword away as they appeared, swung himself back onto the stage and came over to Rose where she was leaning against the TARDIS doors.

"Rose, meet the Watch. The thespian version of the police."

She smiled weakly at him as a few of the public appeared – those innocents who had unknowingly worked on something sinister. Marie was among them, and she ran to the stage when she saw the Doctor and Rose.

"Oh, Rose, Doctor! I was watching, I saw – I can't believe I helped! I'm so sorry!" She was now up on the stage, and put a hand to her mouth as she saw Rose up close. "Oh, Rose – you're alright! Thank Shakespeare."

"Well, I will be. I've got a Doctor to help me." She smiled up at him, as he smiled back. Love was in his eyes, clear as day.

An officer of the Watch had approached. "Excuse me, Sir. Is the Lady all right? The reports said she was stabbed."

The Doctor moved slightly so the officer could see the bandage. "She'll be alright. I've taken care of it."

"Yes, Sir. Is this Lady a cult member?" He was indicating Marie.

"No, but I can help. I worked on the costumes for this play." Marie got down as she spoke, turning back. "I suppose you'll leave, then. It was nice to meet the two of you. Good luck with whatever you do. Take care of yourselves." She gave a brief wave before starting to point out people to the officer.

The head officer of the Watch was looking in their direction, coming over to them on the stage. The Doctor went to meet him, kneeling on the front of the stage. Rose couldn't hear what he was saying – she was so tired, and wanted to sleep. She watched as they both nodded, and the Doctor pointed towards the statue, before clapping the officer on the arm and standing.

"What did you say?" she asked him softly.

"Oh, just told him about things. Us, the 'Duke' and Xander. They've been looking for the cult after a few of the vanishings and seemingly unrelated situations and accidents that they found links to. They don't need us now – oh, the officer said he was sorry about what had happened and we were fortunate nothing else happened. We can go, if you want."

"Yeah. I think I've had enough theatre for now." She stood, leaning on the TARDIS as the Doctor unlocked the doors and went in. She closed them behind her, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the wood.

"Rose?"

She turned as she heard his footsteps behind her. He put an arm around her and guided her to the pilot's seat. There was silence as they sat next to one another, before the Doctor muttered, as if to himself but meant for her, "Thanks for clearing the poison from that bottle."

"It was an accident. You could've drunk it…" she trailed off, trying not to think about what might have happened. It had been accident, coincidence, fate even – she hadn't even known the bottle's purpose.

"You still did it."

She murmured in a positive response, leaning against him; into his chest, trying not to hit or strain her wound in any way. His hand came up and rested against her head, softly stroking her hair. "You tired?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"You've over exerted yourself. Come on," he said, as he pulled her up. He put an arm around her and guided her back through the TARDIS and back to the infirmary, where she climbed onto the bed she had woken in and lay back.

The Doctor stood next to her, holding one of her hands as she looked up at him sleepily. "We'll go to Haven 6.4. Its beautiful there, peaceful and serene. There won't be a conspiracy or a war or anything, and I mean it. We're going there so you can heal. If I take you to Jackie like this, she'll kill me. Let's avoid her until you're better."

His words were beginning to mix into each other as Rose felt herself falling asleep. She felt him kiss her forehead, then heard leave, saying, "We'll be there when you wake."

The Doctor paused, watching from the doorway as her eyes closed. It had been close, too close. She had almost died (but then again, how much had that happened?) but still, there she was, complete recovery in the direct future. She would be fine; this world would become a memory, and anecdote. And besides, they had found something more important anyway. Something that had always been there. He'd never think of _Romeo and Juliet_ in the same way again.

He smiled to himself, walking back toward the console room, setting the coordinates for Haven and letting his beautiful ship taken them away.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

So that is it. I hope I covered everything. Thank you for reading, coming with me on this journey and seeing the show. I'm working on another (hopefully) about 10, Rose and the Celestial Toymaker (Old school villain who tries to kill people in games. His world can be destroyed, but he can't. He was in a First Doctor serial ages ago. Thought I might play with that). Keep an eye out.

Oh, and if anyone is a Kiwi Whovian, do tell. I don't think there are enough of us here.

Thank you, once again!


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